


Your Today is my Yesterday

by ArtificialDaydreams



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Canon-Typical Worms, Eventual Happy Ending, Everybody Lives, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Spoilers for S5, Time Travel Fix-It, post ep 160
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:09:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 53,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23086801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtificialDaydreams/pseuds/ArtificialDaydreams
Summary: “My name is Jonathan Sims... and I am not from this timeline.”It has been seven months, two weeks, six days, fifteen hours, and thirty-seven minutes since the world ended, Jon wasn’t counting, but the Beholding let him Know anyway. Offered a chance to go back Jon struggles with fixing his past mistakes and keeping everyone in the Institute from realizing he's not the same man he was before.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 567
Kudos: 1384





	1. 8th June, 2019 - 26th June, 2015

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much thanks to Ostentenacity for being a wonderful beta and Mawg for letting me pester them about TMA in general and this fic.

**8th June, 2019**

It was over. As he stared at the flames twining themselves around the building that had once been called The Magnus Institute, Jon wanted to believe that it was all over. Jonah Magnus was dead and the whole place set ablaze for good measure; it had to be over, right? He Knew it wasn’t, though. He was too late, and nothing he could do could reverse the ritual he had completed. The Entities continued to leak into the world through cracks only he could see. At first it had been a gradual thing, like different-colored inks dropped into a tank of water, but now there was too much fear swirling around him to truly tell just what it belonged to. The sky still watched him with delighted interest.

Jon had failed. Everything that had been done to prevent the end of the world, Gertrude and Gerry’s efforts, Sasha and Tim’s deaths; everything had been for nothing. He didn’t know exactly what had happened to Martin. One second they were standing next to each other, their hands grasped together like their linked fingers were the one thing that they could be sure was real, and the next he was gone. He Knew that the Lonely had swallowed him up, no doubt seeking out Martin deliberately for having escaped its clutches, and it had made sure that nobody could follow this time. It had been seven months, one week, six days, fifteen hours, and thirty-seven minutes since Martin had vanished. He actually wasn’t counting, but the Beholding sought to punish him by making him aware of just how long he’d been alone.

Was he doomed to wander this world of fear forever? Jon couldn’t be killed easily. Maybe if another Avatar found him it would be possible. He highly doubted that anyone would be interested in him now that the world had ended and the fear their Patrons craved was so easy to harvest. He didn’t want to live anymore, not without Martin. He didn’t understand Jonah’s motives; what good was living forever if there was nobody to live for?

 _We could have had a life together_ , Jon thought as he walked through the horror that used to be London streets. They’d had maybe a month together as a couple, after escaping the Lonely and running away to Daisy’s safehouse in Scotland. Then the world had gone so horribly wrong and Martin had been ripped from him, leaving him to wander alone. _We could have gotten a flat together, gone on dates in the park, maybe adopted a cat. We could have done so much more if I had only paid attention to him instead of brushing him off. If I hadn’t been so stupid and blind, if I had only trusted people instead of trying to do everything myself._

He looked at his hands, the scars and calluses, the cuts and blood that marred them. Jonah had called him an Archive of Fear, and his hands were proof of all that he had endured. Every morning he woke and tried to imagine that the world hadn’t ended, but then he saw his hands and was forced to accept his reality.

“Hello, Archivist.” A voice broke Jon out of his thoughts. Helen stood before him, her eyes wild and her grin a bit too wide as she looked him up and down. “I need to talk with you.”

“What do you want? Shouldn’t you be off scaring innocent people?” He had no patience for mind games at the moment.

“Oh Archivist, this is not what I wanted.”

“How? You have an endless supply of fear, shouldn’t you be happy?”

“I am not like the others. I prefer my fear aged like wine. The suffering, the panic, the constant doubt adds flavor you cannot begin to imagine. This—” Helen waved a long-fingered hand at the sky that watched them. “This is not true fear. It is like eating the same bland food day after day. You understand, don’t you Archivist? The difference a meal can have on you?”

As much as he hated to agree with her, he did understand what Helen was talking about. Simply reading a statement did hardly anything to satisfy his hunger anymore. It was the reason he’d taken to forcing them out of people. Perhaps now that everyone was afraid, it made the fear less filling?

“What do you want, Helen?” He asked again, unsure why she had chosen to seek him out.

“You wish to undo the ritual, do you not?”

Yes. God, yes, he wished he could fix things. He wanted Martin back, he wanted to go back to a time when everything made sense and the sky didn’t watch his every mood with some kind of sick satisfaction. What he said instead was, “You can’t undo a ritual.”

“True.” Helen looked at the nails on her long fingers. “Still, what if I sent you back to before the ritual was done? Could you find a way to prevent the ritual from happening?”

Jon’s mouth hung open at her words. “Can you even do that?”

“I can try, Archivist, but you have to promise me something.”

“Stop the ritual, I know.”

“No.” Helen gave a sad smile. “Let me be Helen again. I like being her more than being Michael. I like how it feels to be more... human.”

“You’re telling me that if I want to fix things, I can’t save Helen?” Jon didn’t like the idea of that, he’d hoped that it would be possible to at least try to help everyone.

“Believe it or not, I like being like this. You don’t need to save me. I wasn’t sure at first, but I think that I am happy being a part of the Distortion. Besides, you must know it’s impossible to save everyone.”

He didn’t want to accept that people would die, be eaten by the entities no matter how hard he tried to save them, but he was just one man. One... Avatar. Gertrude had known sacrifices had to be made for the good of the world. Could he do the same? He sighed, shaking his head slightly to clear the negative thoughts away. Of course he could. For Sasha and Tim, who’d died only knowing a sliver of what they were up against, for Gertrude and Leitner who’d been murdered by Elias. For Martin too, for the kind-hearted man who always put others before himself, who preferred to suffer in silence if it meant that Jon would be safe. More than anyone, he deserved a happy ending.

Yes, for this future, to protect the people he’d failed the first time around, he would make necessary sacrifices. For the sake of their happiness, he would become a monster. “What do I need to do?”

Helen grinned that too-wide grin again. “Find the right door.” Then she shoved him into seemingly-endless darkness. Jon found himself in a twisting corridor lined with doors and arches of every shape, size, and color. Some doors didn’t have handles, while others had far too many; some oozed with slime or seemed to pulse with their own heartbeat. Some archways led to more hallways, some led to stairs, and some led nowhere at all. None of them seemed right. He didn’t know how long he kept walking through the bizarre corridor, passing door after door, until he came across one he recognized. It was the door to the Magnus Institute. He just Knew it.

“Here goes nothing,” Jon muttered, opening the door.

* * *

**26th June, 2015**

To say that Martin Blackwood was concerned about Jon was nothing new. He didn’t like how Jon seemed to neglect eating and sleeping in favor of work. Every time they saw each other it seemed like the shadows under those green eyes got darker and his expression more serious. Martin desperately wanted to bring a snack of some sort with Jon’s tea, but he knew that Jon would just brush off his worries like he did every time anyone expressed concern for his well-being.

However, when Jon collapsed in the break room for no apparent reason, it was understandable that Martin would be concerned about him. Healthy people don’t just pass out from standing up, and it was lucky that Tim had been using the microwave at the same time so he was able to catch Jon before he cracked his head on the floor. Martin rushed over to them, practically knocking over the chair he’d been sitting in due to the panic that washed over him.

“What happened?” Martin managed to get out, taking Jon’s limp body from Tim and noting just how light he was. When was the last time he’d gotten a good night’s sleep or had a full meal?

“Dunno,” Tim said, shrugging as he took his mug from the microwave. “He was brooding like usual as he drank some tea, then he stood up from the table and passed out. Probably overworked himself.”

“Is there anywhere we can put him? Should we call for an ambulance?”

Another shrug. “He’d probably get mad at us if we called anyone, I think there’s a cot in one of the document storage rooms. I’ll help you move him there.”

It didn’t take much effort to move Jon to the small cot in one of the Archive’s storage rooms, although Martin wondered why it was even there to begin with. A small, nagging voice in the back of his head whispered that this was not the first time Jon had slept on this cot, and it likely wouldn’t be the last. “I’m going to check if he has a concussion,” Martin muttered as Tim headed back out the door. “Maybe that’s what made him collapse.”

“Maybe he’s a workaholic and his lack of sleep is finally catching up to him.” Martin ignored this and proceeded to open Jon’s eyes, pulling back the lid to check if his pupils were dilated. They seemed fine enough; his breathing sounded regular and his pulse was normal. It looked like Jon really had passed out from exhaustion. There was a chair in the far corner of the room and it didn’t take much effort to drag it next to the cot. He hoped that nobody would get upset that he wasn’t working, but he was too anxious to get anything done.

It took an hour for Jon to start stirring on the cot, rolling over and knocking his glasses askew before he quickly rose into a sitting position. His eyes seemed oddly out-of-focus as he gazed around the room, finally noticing Martin was there and startling. He didn’t even bother to fix his glasses.

“Hello, Martin. Would you mind telling me what day it is?” Jon didn’t seem at all annoyed to suddenly find himself lying on a cot in one of the Archive’s storage rooms. He didn’t even seem annoyed that it was Martin watching over him. Instead he seemed, he seemed almost pleased that it was just the two of them in the room as he finally fixed his glasses and looked at his hands.

“It’s Tuesday. You were only out an hour or so.”

Jon shook his head, running a hand through his silver-streaked hair. “No, what is the date? Year too? I need to know when I am.”

“Are you quite okay, Jon? You just collapsed earlier, d’you need anything? Tea maybe?”

“Just the date, please. It really is important.” Another glance at his hands, turning them over as though he’d never seen them before.

Martin told him, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “Did you hit your head? Are you okay?”

A small nod, and Jon rose to his feet, adjusting his shirt slightly. “I should go home. You said I passed out, right? Probably best for me to get some rest. I’m sure Elias will understand.” Then he walked out of the room without giving any more explanation for why he had fainted or his behavior.

* * *

“Statement of Jonathan Sims regarding the end of the world. Recorded 26th June, 2015, well the second one anyway. Statement taken directly from subject.”

Jon sighed and hit pause as he looked around his small flat. It felt like a lifetime since he’d been here, and yet he could remember waking up in it earlier that morning as clear as he could remember the run-down building he’d slept in the last morning in the future. It seemed like his memories of that other life had been sent back in time and merged with his present body and mind. He didn’t know how many of his abilities or inhuman traits had been brought back as well, but the tape recorder had appeared in his pocket the moment he woke in the Archive’s document storage room. That, and he’d technically Known the date without having to ask Martin. Jon had mostly just wanted to hear his voice again after so long, but getting confirmation never hurt.

Martin. Seeing him had felt so good and yet hurt all the same. Jon had missed him every day he’d wandered in that hell and yet this was not “his Martin.” This was a Martin that had yet to spend a fortnight locked in his flat by Jane Prentiss, hadn’t tricked Elias by burning statements, had not obeyed Peter Lukas to spare the others from misery. This was not the Martin that had spent a blissful month with him pretending that Entities of fear didn’t exist, and that stepping wrong in a cow pasture was the worst that the world had to offer. The Martin that had been there when he’d woken up had looked at Jon with worry, yes, but those blue eyes had none of the tenderness and affection they were capable of holding.

It hurt. It hurt to be looked at by someone he loved so fiercely and passionately like he was merely an acquaintance. He couldn’t bear to be in the room with Martin until he had gathered his thoughts and he hoped that he’d be forgiven in the end. Jon needed time to think, to plan his next moves. Maybe cry a bit. But that would depend on how much time he spent on the first items on his to-do-over list. He yawned, not realizing just how drained he was. Sleep now, plan later.

He looked at the tape recorder again, internally groaning before picking it up. He needed to record this statement while it was still fresh in his mind. If anything did happen to him he wanted something to be left behind so people knew he was actually trying to help. He needed there to be some proof that he wasn’t the monster he believed himself to be.

“My name is Jonathan Sims... and I am not from this timeline.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so people know, I have about seven chapters already written for this. I’ll post more when I write more but I’ll try to do about one per week.


	2. 27th June, 2015 - 20th June, 2015

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of exposition here, apologies but it's neccessary.
> 
> Thanks again to Ostentenacity for beta-ing!

**27th June, 2015**

So far Jon’s to-do-over list involved a lot of luck. Then again he was not just saving the world from the Eye, but also preventing the Extinction from ever existing. He was one Avatar; involving humans was likely to only lead to their deaths, and asking other Avatars for help would probably end in his own life being snuffed out. So yes, luck played a big role in everything going well.

Stopping Jane Prentiss from attacking Martin was his first objective. If he could keep her from trapping him in his flat for a fortnight then there was a chance she’d leave everyone alone. Jon wasn’t sure how he could get rid of her; was a statement mentioning worms enough to get the ECDC to quarantine the building? How would he explain knowing that CO2 fire extinguishers could kill her? He’d figure out what to do somehow, but preventing Martin from meeting Jane was most important.

Next was making sure that when the Web table arrived it was either sent away or contained safely in artifact storage. Jon didn’t want to destroy it and release the NotThem again, nor did he want anyone to be replaced by them. Sasha would live; he’d make sure of it. The storage rooms contained plenty of dangerous items. He’d just have to find one of the other statements about the NotThem before it arrived, preferably one mentioning the table, and bring up the statement as proof of how dangerous it was.

Jurgen Leitner was still living in the tunnels under the Archive. Jon needed to find him and speak with him without Elias knowing. If Leitner died again, especially if it looked like Jon had killed him, all his plans would be sidetracked. Leitner’s knowledge would help him figure out how to stop Jonah- Elias, he’d be better off referring to him as Elias in his head so he didn’t accidentally slip up when speaking to someone about his boss.

Having already talked to Jude Perry, Mike Crew, and many other Avatars and received their statements, there was no need to track them down and become Marked by their Patrons again. Jon also didn’t need to travel the world in order to figure out what Gertrude had been up to, wasting time he could put to better use. Plus he would save himself from gaining a few scars.

The Unknowing would fail whether Jon was there or not. Tim would not die a pointless death even if it meant not getting his revenge. Daisy also wouldn’t be taken into the Buried, which he was determined to prevent. The Stranger was dangerous, yes, but it had all been a distraction from the real enemy. It was essential that Gertrude’s body was actually cremated this time. Jon didn’t want her corpse desecrated again.

Somehow along the way he’d have to stop Melanie from going to India, and try to prevent her from joining the Institute along with Daisy and Basira. Helen would still be taken by the Spiral; it was an unfortunate sacrifice but Jon would rather have one Avatar on his side with the end of the world at stake. Maybe he could convince Daisy to work with him? The longer he dwelled on it the more impossible his task seemed.

Jon washed his face in the bathroom sink before looking at his reflection in the mirror. He was so young now, less grey in his hair, fewer lines around his eyes. The scars he’d finally gotten used to were gone: the pockmarks on his face from Jane Prentiss’s attack on the Archives, the handshake with Jude Perry, Daisy’s attempt to murder him. All of them were gone. His hands, the reminder of all he’d been through, now bore some small scratches and calluses, but the proof of what he’d endured was gone. They would now serve as motivation to make sure that horrible future never came to pass.

A growl from his stomach brought Jon back to reality. He wasn’t sure how much of his Archivist powers had come back with him, nor did he know how human he was at this point in time. He did Know some things without having any reason to, but he certainly wasn’t going to see the extent of his knowledge. He also saw no reason to test if he could compel people yet; the less he relied on those abilities the more human he might stay. He didn’t want to turn back into that monster that harassed people on the streets for their statements, and it was probably a good idea to limit the amount of live statements he did take. He could live without those nightmares this time around.

Eating a hasty breakfast before leaving for work, Jon wondered when the last time he’d bothered to actually eat breakfast was. His pantry was practically empty, half a loaf of bread and some peanut butter along with a few snack cakes. He’d have to buy groceries later.

The tube was crowded with people, but Jon looked at them in a new light. These people had no idea that the world could end in a matter of years. They went about their normal routine without knowing that Entities of fear, monsters that sucked people’s blood, creatures that stole faces, and many more horrible things existed. Almost everyone at the Institute was in the dark about the power their boss served, the reason the building even existed. The first time he’d lived today he also had been clueless, skeptical about every statement he encountered and covering up the fear he felt with contempt. He’d been so blind.

Upon arriving at the Institute Jon was surprised that it took a few seconds to work up the courage to actually go inside that pillared building. Now that he knew what he was up against, a true Avatar of the Eye who would sacrifice everyone on Earth in order to live forever, it unnerved him. His biggest concern was keeping Elias from figuring out just what he was up to. The man had killed Gertrude and Leitner without hesitation, he might very well kill Jon he needed to. Elias could See everything, but he actually had to make the effort to watch, and his attention couldn’t be divided. What Jon didn’t know was if the Beholding could also hear everything, but it seemed unlikely.

A hand waved itself in front of Jon’s face and Tim was suddenly before him, a cup of tea from a cafe down the street in his hand. “You okay, boss? Did you actually hit your head yesterday?”

Yesterday? He racked his brain to remember what had happened the previous day before remembering waking up in the document storage room, Martin saying that he’d fainted. It was hard to keep track of all his memories, especially since half of them were from a timeline that no longer existed. “A bit tired, I’m afraid, but that’s nothing new. How are you doing, Tim?”

There was a small pause before Tim responded, a strange look on his face. “I’m good. Not exactly looking forward to looking into the Patel statement, but that’s more because I know I’m going to have to get hold of her medical records.”

“The... the Patel statement?” Which one was that again? God, he’d read so many statements they sort-of blended together in his head. Jon had forgotten to have tea this morning and the lack of caffeine was affecting him.

“Yeah, case 0070107. That one about the woman creeping on her neighbor and swearing he got replaced by someone else? You mentioned how you thought the concussion must have affected her memory of him and wanted me to check it out?”

Right, the statement of Amy Patel about her neighbor Graham. He’d been replaced by one of the NotThem and she’d been the only person to notice. It seemed like an eternity since he’d thought about her, but it was only yesterday. “Yes, of course.” Jon coughed before heading towards the door and holding it open for Tim. “Forgive me, I was running late this morning and I’m not fully awake.”

Tim stared at him again before shaking his head and going inside. “You sure you’re feeling okay, boss? Did you see a doctor at all yesterday about why you fainted?”

“O-oh, no. I went home and slept. I think I just overworked myself.” Jon gave a small smile and made his way to the stairs that led to the Archives. “Thank you for your concern.”

The Archives looked the same as they had yesterday. A woman sat at one of the two occupied desks in the Archival Assistants’ room and with a pang Jon realized it was Sasha. The real Sasha. Even though he had technically seen her yesterday... well it was surprising to see how different the thing that had pretended to be her looked. How could he have possibly gotten the two of them confused? How did the NotThem do it?

Martin was at his desk, typing on his laptop, but he quickly got to his feet when he saw Jon enter. “Are you feeling better? Do you need anything?”

There was a pang in Jon’s chest. From the start Martin had been nothing but kind to him, and that kindness had been pushed away and taken for granted. This man had not deserved the treatment he’d been given, but he’d accepted it without complaint. What kind of monster was Jon?

“Jon, are you okay?”

“O-oh, yes. I’m still a bit tired I guess.”

“You could have stayed home you know. I imagine Elias would understand if you’re not feeling well.” Martin was looking at him with such apprehension but Jon knew this was not the Martin he loved. His brain was screaming _not right, not right, not right_ over and over. Despite having a day to organize his thoughts he still wasn’t fully prepared to deal with... well people in general he guessed.

“Thank you for your concern but I have a lot of work to do. I didn’t think I should stay home merely because I’m tired.” Jon nodded curtly before going to his office.  
Martin stared at him before giving a small smile. “Take care of yourself, Jon.”

* * *

**29th June, 2015**

“Has anyone else thought Jon’s acting weird?” Tim asked Martin and Sasha after work a couple of days later. As it was Friday, the three of them had decided to go to a pub and unwind from a very strange week.

“Yeah.” Sasha took a sip from her drink. “He thanked me for trying to follow up with the statement-giver from the Patel case, even though she declined the interview. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him thank anyone in the three years he’s worked here.”

“Yes! Thank you, Sasha!” Tim took a swig of beer and coughed. “He’s being weirdly nice. On Wednesday he not only asked me how _I_ was doing, he apologized for something and thanked me for asking how _he_ was doing! Thinking about that Patel case— do you think they’re related? Has our grouchy boss been replaced by someone else?”

“I don’t think so,” Martin started to interject, but he was cut off before he could finish his sentence.

“Martin’s opinion doesn’t count! He sees everything Jon does through rose-colored lenses even though he gets treated the worst.”

“H-hey! I don’t-”

“Martin, we know you have a crush on Jon, but you have to admit he’s been acting strange. Didn’t he say something about your tea today?” Sasha cut in, smiling.

“He did what?” Tim’s face lit up at the promise of gossip.

“It wasn’t anything huge, he just said he liked how it tasted.” Martin felt his face flushing.

“Wasn’t anything huge? Martin, he said you made the best cup of tea he’d ever had. Not only that, he only seemed to realize what he was saying a second later.” Sasha was beaming at the memory. “Tim, you should have been there! Jon turned bright red and hurried away to his office muttering something about statements.”

Martin also was bright red as his coworkers looked at him. “Atta boy, Martin!” Tim’s grin stretched from ear to ear. “I mean, he probably has been replaced with some horrible monster, but at least he’s giving you compliments!”

“Can we please not discuss this?” Martin mumbled into his own drink. “Tim, weren’t you saying you had a date tomorrow?”

Fortunately his coworkers seemed to pick up on his unease and were willing to change the subject, but they had been right about Jon’s behavior. Martin had noticed it from when he’d woken up after fainting. He was kinder, more open than he had been, and it was more than a little unnerving. The only person this courtesy didn’t seem to extend to was Elias, who Jon actually treated with a bit more suspicion. It was unlikely there was any paranormal reason for this change, but it was so sudden Martin could understand why Tim and Sasha thought what they did. Still, the compliment had been nice, albeit unexpected. If Jon wanted to be nicer to him, well, there was no reason to stop such behavior.

* * *

**20th July, 2015**

It had been almost a month in the past and nothing remarkable had happened, although Jon did notice his coworkers staring at him more, and he was reminded that he’d been a bit horrible to them his first time around. They were probably confused by his behavior, but he honestly didn’t want to be mean to anyone except Elias. He’d tried to keep the few interactions he’d had with his boss brief, using the disorganized state of the Archives as an excuse before leaving. He couldn’t do this forever though. If he kept acting suspicious then Elias was bound to keep more of an eye on him than Jon wanted.

Talking with Martin, on the other hand, was confusing. He wanted to be nice and make up for all the abuse his past self had done, and often he would say something without actually meaning to and end up making a fool of himself. Then he would be reminded that this wasn’t the Martin he’d fallen in love with, and the pain would come back, and he’d make some excuse and run away before his emotions could get the better of him. It wasn’t fair to either of them, but Martin deserved someone better than Jon. They would both move on and life would continue as normal.

No significant progress had been made towards stopping Jane Prentiss, but Jon had asked the Archive staff to bring him any statements that seemed connected to her. He’d made some excuse that the statement by Timothy Hodge had unsettled him and he thought she was a threat that needed to be dealt with, therefore more knowledge about her was necessary. He’d also made an attempt to “accidentally” find case 0011206. It was necessary that everyone knew about the connection between the Web table and the NotThem, so that if it did arrive at the Institute again everyone would know to be wary of it. He had to make sure people knew the dangers they were dealing with.

He was still no closer in figuring out how to stop Jonah, apart from maybe not getting marked by an Entity unless he couldn’t avoid it. Then there was the matter of the Extinction to deal with, although progress on that plan was also stagnant. It was quite a lot of pressure but all he could do was go about his job like nothing was wrong and try not to attract too much suspicion. After work he’d usually record something about how the day had gone. His collection of cassette tapes was starting to develop, but fortunately, after the first statement, he only filled one up a week.

He felt strangely lonely— possibly a side-effect of being in the wrong timeline, but he felt disconnected from everyone and burdened with knowledge that could easily break them. Maybe if they learned the truth someday they’d get mad at him for not telling them sooner, but he really couldn’t risk Elias learning that Jon had actually traveled back in time to stop him. Hopefully if the rest of the archives staff did find out the truth they’d forgive him for his secrecy.


	3. 25th September, 2015

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please have some fluff interrupted by actual plot. If you want more fluff... Wait for chapter six I guess?
> 
> Thanks so much once again to Ostentenacity for being the best beta

**25th September, 2015**

Martin had definitely continued to notice a change in Jon’s behavior over the past few months. It wasn’t as drastic as those first weeks, but there was a definite difference. Tim had come across a book about “being a better boss” on Jon’s desk, buried under a pile of statements, but somehow Martin didn’t think that was it. More often than not Jon would join them for lunch breaks instead of eating in his office, and he would tell them to leave early if they finished a task ahead of time. He even once told Sasha that this was just a job and to not do anything dangerous in the pursuit of answers. It was still a bit odd to get used to, but, if he was honest, it was kind of nice.

Sometimes Jon did act a bit weirder. He once accidentally brushed up against Martin’s fingers when taking some papers from him and their hands stayed touching for a few seconds before either of them seemed to notice what they were doing. Then there were the handful of times Martin had caught Jon just... staring at him. It wasn’t like before, like he’d suspected anyone was slacking off; there was a wistful expression on his face before he realized he’d been seen. Did Jon know of Martin’s feelings? Was Jon trying to figure out the best way to let him down without it interfering in their work?

Needless to say, when Martin showed up to work one morning, a bit groggy from not sleeping well, and saw a small paper bag on his desk, he wasn’t sure what to make of it. The bag wasn’t fancy, but it was still clearly a gift bag, with white tissue paper coming out the top. Who had left it there, and why?

A hand clapped him on the back. “Happy birthday, Martin!” Tim grinned at him before catching sight of the bag. “Who’s that from?”

“It... it’s not from you?”

“Nah, I kinda forgot til I saw you. I’ll grab you a card later. So, who is it from?”

“Sasha maybe?” Martin picked the bag up, looking for some kind of tag.

“What about me?” As if on cue Sasha strolled into the Archives, a coffee cup in hand and apparently unaware of anything going on.

“Martin’s got a secret admirer, Sash,” Tim took the bag and tried to peek inside before it was snatched back. “Better open it before Jon sees, is he in his office?”

It was only then that any of them bothered to check the office door. It was open and the room inside was empty, although Jon’s bag was on his desk. Tim let out a small gasp, nudging Martin with his elbow. “D’you think it was Jon?” Before anyone could respond he laughed. “Sorry, that was mean. Do you think he even knows it’s your birthday?”

Inside the bag was a plush cow and a book of poetry. Keats’ poetry. Martin wasn’t sure how anyone had known he liked Keats, or cows. Did he like cows? They were pretty cute but he hadn’t actually thought about it until he saw the silly little toy. Who had gotten him this?

* * *

Jon hoped that Elias would be distracted by... anything, actually, because he needed to break into the tunnels and he really didn’t want to be seen. He had to go down there, though; he needed advice and answers. There was only one person he could ask at the moment, so he picked the lock and headed down the trapdoor. It was dark. Even with his torch it felt like the shadows crept up on him from all sides and cobwebs hung in clusters every few feet. Dust lay thick on the floor apart from a streak where it was obvious someone had walked through recently.

Even now, having been through these tunnels before, Jon wasn’t sure if he could find Leitner today. It had taken him being chased by a monster before he’d stumbled upon the man before, and if he used The Seven Lamps of Architecture, there was no way Jon would know what way to go in this maze. It wasn’t the Distortion, but it was still confusing. He only had a few more hours until someone noticed his absence. Even if he’d stayed overnight on the pretense of “getting work done” just so he could come down here before anyone showed up, it was still a weekday. Jon needed answers. He needed to know what Leitner and Gertrude had been working on, if there was any way to stop Jonah Magnus’ plans for the Watcher’s Crown. He doubted he would get much out of the old man but some information was better than none.

The person who could really help him with a plan was Gerry, but the whereabouts of Trevor and Julia were unknown at the moment. Tracking them down was not a priority, especially since he was in no state to go up against Avatars of the Hunt. There was only so much he could do at this point in the timeline, so he’d just have to do what he could.

A wall moved in front of him, turning as though on a hinge to cover another tunnel. There was only one way such a thing was possible, only one person who could do that. The question was if Leitner was trying to prevent Jon from finding him or leading him towards him, but there was only one way to find out what the answer was. The path that had opened sloped downward slightly, narrower and smaller than where he’d come from. The walls seemed to close in on him as he walked, and he desperately wanted to turn back the way he came.

Checking his watch Jon saw that it was around eight in the morning; there wasn’t much time left. Should he write off today as a lost cause? Then the door in his mind cracked open a bit and he Knew what paths to take, as though a map of the tunnels had been etched on the back of his eyelids. His feet picked up speed as he went downwards, left, straight, right, left again, until he finally came across a room that seemed to be part of the old Millbank Prison.

“Who are you? How did you find me? Who sent you?” Jurgen Leitner looked just like Jon had remembered: a frail old man who just wanted to live in peace. At least his head was still intact, which was better than the last time he’d seen him.

“My name is Jonathan Sims, I’m...” Now that they were finally meeting again, he wasn’t quite sure what to say. “I’m Gertrude’s replacement.”

“You’re the new Head Archivist, yes. That doesn’t explain how you knew about the tunnels and were able to find me. Did Elias send you?” The man held two books so tightly in his hands that his knuckles were turning white.

“No, and have a favor to ask of you. I know that you have something that can hide you from the Watcher. I’d rather not end up like Gertrude so I’d like to use it. We can talk more once we’re both hidden.” Jon held out a hand patiently.

“Why should I do that?”

“Because I know that if I am spotted down here you will be killed. The book. Now.” Leitner held out the small volume labeled “A Disappearance” in a shaking hand and Jon snatched it away, opening it to a random page and glanced at a single word before closing it and handing it back.

“There,” Leitner grimaced, taking a step back. “Now tell me what you know.”

It was funny. Now that he was actually able to tell someone about just what had happened, Jon wasn’t able to find the words. “I’m from the future, Mr. Leitner. The Distortion sent me back in time to prevent Elias from finishing his ritual. I met you in the... the other timeline I suppose. I came to you because you used to work with Gertrude so I hoped you might be able to give me some answers.”

“You came from the future?” Leitner gave a small sigh and made his way over to where a small wooden chair sat in a corner, slowly lowering himself into it as though he needed to be seated to digest this information. “I don’t want to believe you, but I suppose the fact you were able to find me down here is proof enough. I am not sure how much help I can give you, though.”

“I just need to know what you were doing with Gertrude.” Jon was running out of time and he needed answers. “I know you planned to destroy the Archives, but to what end?”

“I know Gertrude just thought it was best if they were destroyed.” Leitner’s voice was shaky and his eyes kept darting around the room as he spoke. “She originally sought me out because of my knowledge on the books, but we did start working together to try and thwart some of the rituals. Our biggest concern was the Stranger’s-”

“The Unknowing, yes. I dealt with that one personally...”

“Gertrude believed that if we were to destroy the Archives it would hurt Elias, possibly weaken him.” Jon recalled the tape from when Martin had burnt statements to distract Elias, how it had really angered the man until he’d realized he was merely being distracted. How he’d punished Martin in retaliation. There was something in the statements themselves, Jon just didn’t know what.

“Thank you, Mr. Leitner. I appreciate you talking to me.” Jon turned to leave. “I may come to you again if I need more advice.”

“What did the Beholding’s ritual entail?”

“He needed an Archivist, one marked by all the Entities, to summon all of them into this world. Alone the rituals are always doomed to failure, the fears are too connected to one another for only one to be summoned.” He paused. It hurt to talk about what had happened. “Elias used me. I played right into his hands.”

“So how are you going to stop him this time?” Leitner asked, his tone gentle.

“I’m not sure yet, but I’ll do whatever it takes.”

* * *

Coming out of the tunnels was surreal, like he’d been in a different world. Back in the Archives, Sasha was working on her laptop, Tim was playing a game on his phone until he noticed Jon enter the room, and Martin was nowhere to be seen. It was a harsh transition from the reality and horror that he was trying to stop and the calm he wanted to protect.

An ache had started to form in the pit of his stomach, not a hunger for food, but the craving that had come from needing to consume a statement. Apparently the brief second Jon had tapped into the Beholding had consequences now that his body was weaker and less suited to handling the few powers that had traveled back in time with him. He’d need to work on controlling the Eye, on not compelling people against their wills, not Knowing things unless there was no other way to get information. He couldn’t risk taking statements from people. He didn’t know if he could deal with reliving their worst nightmares over and over again in his dreams, or the knowledge that he would also torment them when they slept. He also couldn’t risk... He couldn’t risk becoming the Archivist again. He’d just have to make someone else record their statements instead of him, claim he had work to do or something.

“Hey boss.” Tim grinned slyly. “You gonna wish Martin a happy birthday?”

Right, that was today. Two days ago he’d been unable to resist buying Martin a gift even though it would have been entirely unexpected for Jon to even notice what day it was. His heart wouldn’t let him forget, though. Just like it wouldn’t let him forget how Martin’s face would light up looking at the cows in Scotland, or his love of Keats’ poetry that would often lead to halfhearted debates in that small safehouse. Still, it had taken all his courage to leave the bag on Martin’s desk before heading into the tunnels.

“Maybe, is he in the break room?”

“I think so, he’s still reeling that he has a secret admirer.” Tim picked up a folder and started leafing through it. “Someone left him a gift this morning, did you see who it was?”

“N-no.” Jon coughed, hoping nobody had been able to hear the shake of his voice. “I was looking for a specific statement and was in the back of the Archives all morning.”

“He wouldn’t let us see what it was, I’m annoyed. Maybe one of the people in research took a liking to him before he transferred.”

“The same way you must have left a few people heartbroken when you left?” Jon remarked. There was no missing the wry smile Tim gave him.

“They thought I was crazy to come down here,” he turned his attention to his laptop for what seemed like the first time that day. “Maybe I am.”

“Perhaps we all are.” Jon murmured, heading towards the break room. Martin stood leaning against the counter, doing something on his phone while he waited for the electric kettle to boil. He looked so innocent, his red curls glinting in the dim lights, his cheeks flushing slightly when he noticed Jon enter.

“Morning.” Martin gave a shy smile. “You weren’t in your office when I got here. I expect you were deep in the Archives?”

“Y-yes, I was trying to find a statement. I think it got filed wrong, though, so all my searching was for nothing.” Martin was staring at him, a slight look of concern on his face.

“Er, Jon?”

“Y-yes?” God, why did he have to stutter?

Pointing a finger at his own head Martin spoke, almost embarrassedly. “You, you have a cobweb in your hair. Archives aren’t cleaned often, are they?”

Panic overtook him, the feeling of legs crawling over his skin, the image of spiders, of that bloated body staring up at him from the pages of that damned book... Jon swiped at his hair, trying to get the webs off, to get them away from him and...

“Hold still, I’ll get it.” Jon had forgotten that he was a good six inches or more shorter than Martin until just then. With gentle fingers, Martin deftly picked all the threads of cobweb out of his hair, every so often brushing against his skin in a manner that made Jon’s heart seize. He prayed nobody else would come in the break room and see them. After what felt like a lifetime Martin took a step back. “Done, you should be all set.”

“Th-thank you.”

“You really don’t like spiders, do you?” Martin’s expression was concerned as he wiped his hands on some paper towels.

“I...” It really wasn’t the time or the place for Jon to bring up his past but, well he’d just met the man partially responsible again. “I had a run in with a Leitner when I was eight... It left me with a dislike of them.”

It was evident that whatever Martin had been expecting Jon to say, that wasn’t it. “Wait, you read a Leitner about spiders when you were eight? Did it hurt you at all?”

“No, someone else...” Jon had to take a breath to steady himself at the memory of those horrible arms emerging from the door. “Someone else finished reading it before I could. They were taken by it.”

“Christ, Jon.” Martin was gaping at him. “I thought you just didn’t like them... I had no idea...”

“I don’t like to talk about it.” Fortunately at that moment the electric kettle began to whistle, breaking whatever spell had been cast over them. Jon shook himself back into the present. The book was gone, and he was safe from Mr. Spider. “I should get back to work.”

“A-alright. Did you want me to bring you some tea later?”

“I’d appreciate that,” Jon gave a small smile as he made to leave the room. “Oh, uh. Happy birthday, Martin.”

There was a moment of silence while Martin seemed to process what had been said. “Th-thank you, Jon. For the gift too.”

Jon hadn’t expected Martin to figure out the gift had been from him. “How?”

“It, uh. It smelled like you. Your soap, I mean. I don’t think anyone else figured it out though.” Martin’s face was even redder, his freckles hidden in his blush. He turned his attention to the mugs on the counter, busying himself with making tea.

Back in his office Jon was also blushing, his cheeks warm as he recalled the feeling of Martin’s fingers in his hair. It had felt so right, like he was back in Daisy’s safehouse in the weeks before the world had ended. This wasn’t that Martin though, and the realization was enough to snap him back to his senses. He was supposed to be giving up his feelings, not giving gifts. His biggest priority was stopping Elias and the Extinction. Maybe after that happened he could figure out exactly what it was he felt for this younger Martin Blackwood.


	4. 13th January, 2016 - 29th February, 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, much thanks to Ostentenacity for the beta!

**13th January, 2016**

When Naomi Hearne had come to the Institute to give her statement, Jon had greeted her briefly before enlisting Sasha to talk with her and locking himself in his office. He would not appear in her nightmares again. He would not relive that empty graveyard any more.

“I’m surprised you didn’t insist on being the one to be there. I’m sure you must have had questions to ask her,” Sasha had said to him after Naomi had left, in a noticeably better mood than the first time she’d visited. Jon had left the safety of his office to bid her farewell, telling her that they’d look into her statement and that he was sorry about Evan’s passing. She’d given him a funny look but hadn’t bothered to do anything more than thank him.

“I can listen to the tape later, I just know... I know I’m not the best person to comfort people.” The man he’d been even a year ago might have been unwilling to admit it aloud, but things had changed. “She needed someone to listen to her statement and not judge her, even if she was mistaken on what happened.”

“That’s... that’s oddly kind of you Jon.”

“Well, looking through enough statements I’ve started to notice that the name Lukas appears on a good number of ones that won’t record to the laptop. Plus there’s the stone...” Jon failed to recall that there were details in Naomi’s statement that he shouldn’t have known about yet.

“Were... were you listening outside the door? How did you know about the marker?” Sasha’s tone was incredulous.

“I heard her tell Rosie about it,” he lied, hoping she couldn’t tell. “Anyway, I doubt Elias will let us look too deeply into it. He doesn’t like us prying into any benefactors and I doubt the Lukas’ will be an exception.”

* * *

**29th February, 2016**

Despite it being over six months since he’d arrived in the past, it felt like the first test to see if the future could be changed, or if certain events were set in stone. Jon had specifically avoided having anyone read Carlos Vittery’s statement. He’d actually hidden it in a drawer just to be safe. He wished there was a way to actually kill Prentiss, since he knew she’d be there, but he didn’t want to get caught breaking into someone’s apartment building. He had contacted the ECDC about Vittery’s statement mentioning “an infestation of silvery worms” and had implied it might have something to do with her. Maybe it would get them to check the building but there was no guarantee anything would come of it.

The biggest thing he had to do today was keep Martin safe, keep him away from that side of town. If nobody encountered Prentiss today then it just might be proof enough that things could be changed, that the world might not end. A part of him wished he could get in contact with Jude Perry and have her burn the building to the ground, Jane included. He wouldn’t do that, though; he wouldn’t risk innocent lives like that.

“Martin.” Jon poked his head out from his office, noting how everyone’s head turned to look at him. “Can I talk to you? I had some questions regarding the statement of Trevor Herbert.” He hoped it seemed innocent enough, the last thing he needed was Tim or Sasha overhearing what he had to say.

“Huh?” Martin seemed flustered at the question but nodded all the same. “Y-yeah. Coming.”

Once the office door was closed there was a moment of awkward silence between them as Jon tried to peer through the small window to see if anyone was spying on them. “The-the Herbert statement? What did you want to know?”

“Nothing, actually. I just needed to talk to you.” This apparently was the wrong thing to say as Martin immediately turned red and eyed the door warily. “You haven’t done anything wrong, I was simply going to ask how you were adjusting to the Archives. I know I’m not the easiest person to work for but... well...”

“It’s... I’m fine, Jon. You’re fine.”

“Martin...” Jon sighed a bit, running a hand through his hair. He wished it wasn’t so hard to get the words out, to simply talk. His very job was talking, but when it came to his own feelings it seemed his mouth did not want to cooperate. “Would you like to get tea with me after work?”

* * *

Martin was fairly certain he was dreaming. It wasn’t a date, he knew that, but still... Jon had invited him out for tea! Plus there had been that gift for his birthday, the little interactions they’d had recently, the times he’d catch Jon staring at him for no good reason. He wasn’t reading too much into it, was he? Sure, Sasha’s birthday had been last month and she’d also received a gift for it, but... Martin’s gift had seemed so... intimate. Then there had been the moment where he’d been picking the cobwebs out of Jon’s hair... There were so many mixed signals. It was confusing.

They made sure to stay late at the Archives, waiting until they figured everyone else had left, before taking off themselves. Jon seemed nervous at the thought of having others see them together. It wasn’t an unreasonable thing to be anxious about; he was Martin’s boss after all, and it would look somewhat bad for them to be seen together anywhere outside of work. Then again, Jon had gone out with Tim and Sasha for drinks once or twice since they started in the Archives, and it was purely something casual between coworkers.

The tea shop was a station over on the tube. They made some small talk on the walk over and once onboard, but it was clear to Martin that Jon had something specific on his mind. It often seemed that way, like even in the middle of a conversation the man had five other thoughts going on at the same time, like he was always in the middle of planning something and his attention wasn’t fully in the present. It was somewhat concerning, and Martin wished there was some way to help him.

“Here we are.” Jon gestured to a small cafe tucked away between a flower shop and an empty storefront. It looked quaint: small tables covered in white cloth, mismatched teacups in a cabinet, a fireplace towards the back, and small bookshelves stocked with well-read volumes. There were a few other guests; couples, Martin noticed with a blush, but Jon either hadn’t seen them or was ignoring them. “I’ve been meaning to come here but never had anyone to go with.”

“Yeah, it doesn’t seem like the kind of place Tim or Sasha might like. Well, Sasha might, but...” Martin trailed off weakly, not quite knowing how to finish the sentence. This place seemed oddly intimate, not somewhere one would take a coworker. Was this what Jon had intended? Did Jon know what most people would think upon looking at the two of them?

An employee seated them at a table towards the back. It was small enough that their knees touched at first and Jon pushed his chair back slightly, his lips pursed. They ordered some tea, chamomile for Martin and mint for Jon, as well as a cake each, before sitting in silence while they waited for their items to be brought to them. The tea was quite good, perfectly steeped, and his cake was moist and chocolatey, but the tension between them made Martin unable to enjoy any of it.

“Jon, why did you bring me here?”

There was another awkward moment of silence where Jon seemed intent on adding just the right amount of sugar to his tea and ensuring it was thoroughly stirred before he answered. “I did honestly want to know how you were adjusting to working in the Archives. When I got promoted to Head Archivist I recommended Sasha and Tim transfer, and they accepted, but that meant when you started, the three of us already knew each other. Plus, at first I was... unfairly hard on you. I’m not the most trusting person at first.”

That was... unexpected. Martin hadn’t known what it was Jon would want to discuss, but... well. It hadn’t been this. “It was a big change for all of us. I take a while to warm up to people too.”

“Still, you were getting used to a new position and working with all new people. Yes, you made mistakes, but...” Jon sighed deeply. “You may have noticed I have no archival experience whatsoever and in all honesty I don’t know why Elias picked me for such a promotion. I am the last person who should judge anyone for not being qualified for their job.”

“Jon.”

“You do good work, you know. A little sloppy at first, and you have a tendency to bring back a little too much information when researching a statement, but I know you care about your job.” A small intake of breath, a faint tint to Jon’s cheeks that might have been due to the dim light or... was it embarrassment? “I have noticed your hard work. You stay late multiple days a week, you help Sasha and Tim when they need it, you’re always the first to volunteer for things, plus you still find the time to make everyone tea. I appreciate everything you do Martin.” Jon’s expression was somewhat hard to make out in the dim light of the cafe but it was entirely possible he was blushing. He was certainly doing his best to avoid Martin’s gaze.

This had to be some kind of dream. There was no way that Jon would take him out for tea and tell Martin that he was appreciated. “Who are you and what have you done with Jon?”

Another bit of awkward silence in which Jon looked a bit like he’d bitten into a lemon. “I... uh... I’m not sure how you expect me to answer that. I just told you that it takes me a while to warm up to people and I was trying to apologize for how I treated you. If you want you can believe I’ve been replaced with a... a doppelganger, or maybe I’ve been possessed by some evil force. Perhaps I’m a time-traveler sent to fix the mistakes I’ve made, or I might just have realized that I’m not the nicest person to be around.”

“I... Jon, I didn’t—”

“I’m not good with people, I’m really not. I know you feel like you have to prove your worth, and I may not be the easiest person to work for, but I do appreciate having you around. Try to take care of yourself and don’t do anything dangerous.” Jon signaled for the server and asked for the check, not even letting Martin see it before he handed them a card.

“I invited you here,” he muttered in way of explanation at the look he was given. “I’m not going to make you pay.” He also insisted on hiring a cab, with the excuse “the streets aren’t safe at night,” and followed it with “text me when you get home.” Martin wasn’t really aware of the ride home, the events of the last hour playing in his head all the way back to his flat. It was a strange day, but not in a bad way. Maybe, just maybe, they could go back to that shop again, under different circumstances.

* * *

Martin was safe. Letting out a sigh, Jon started home from the tube station, glancing at the text once more just to confirm it was real. The future had changed. Nobody would spend the next few weeks cooped up in their apartment hiding from Jane Prentiss. He was so relieved that he might have failed to notice the figure behind him, had the Beholding not alerted him to her presence.

Spinning around, he saw her, just as awful as he remembered. Skin honeycombed with holes, silvery worms wriggling through them and falling to the ground, her dark hair lank and her eyes hollow pits. Her red dress and coat might have once been nice, but they were caked in dirt and ripped to the point where they seemed less like clothes and more like fabric that had gotten wrapped around her. Jane Prentiss, the Flesh Hive. Jon wasn’t supposed to meet her tonight. He wasn’t supposed to encounter her before her attack on the institute in July. She should have been in Vittery’s basement, hiding and biding her time. What was she doing here?

“Do you hear them, Archivist? Do you hear their song?” Her voice was raspy and a part of Jon wondered briefly how she was able to speak with all the worms in her body, how she was able to breathe. There was a whirring in his pocket, a tape recorder he hadn’t put there or turned on.

“Who are you?” Jon demanded, resisting the urge to take out the recorder so it could hear everything clearly.

“You know who I am, Archivist. Your Master knows, and it tells you. It told me you would be here, that I was to greet you properly.” She coughed, spraying the ground with more worms.

“Who told you? Why?” Jon fumbled in his bag for the extinguisher he’d put in there out of sheer paranoia, grateful for the panic he’d felt before as he pulled the pin out and pressed the handle. Jane screamed in pain as the CO2 hit her flesh, the worms shriveling up and falling to the ground. She wasn’t dead, this much wouldn’t be enough to kill her, but it would certainly get rid of her today. She seemed to melt into the sewers in a cascade of silvery wriggling, a few worms squirming towards Jon before he sprayed them. He held the handle down until the extinguisher ran out, going over the ground several times to make sure no stragglers had escaped and would prey on innocent people.

How had she known where he would be? She’d said something about his master telling her— had Elias tipped her off? Why? Jon grimaced, throwing the empty extinguisher in a bin before stomping off towards his flat. It had to have been Elias. Did he suspect Jon was up to something and wanted to ensure his Archivist got marked by the Corruption? Jon sighed. It did no good to dwell on this tonight. Martin was safe and he could deal with whatever had just happened tomorrow.


	5. 1st March, 2016 - 5th March, 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I met my deadline so you all get another chapter. At this point I'll say the fic is probably half written with a word count of 25408 words and ten chapters so far. 
> 
> That being said, thanks as always to Ostentenacity for being the best beta! 
> 
> Enjoy the drama.

**1st March, 2016**

“Wait, you met Jane Prentiss?” Martin had a hard time keeping the panic from his voice. “Are you okay? Did she hurt you?”

Jon looked... well, he looked like a mess. The shadows under his eyes had darkened to the point where they looked like bruises, and his expression- no, his _whole body_ seemed weary. He sat in the break room with a cup of tea in front of him that had likely gone cold. Tim and Sasha leaned against the counter nearby, their postures stiff as they listened intently.

“I’m fine. I think she just wanted to... to meet me?” Jon’s tone was reasonably calm, but there was a hint of panic behind his words. “She mentioned someone telling her where I would be and that she should greet me.”

“Someone told her where to find you? That sounds bad— d’you think she knows where you live?” Martin’s hands were shaking. It was a good thing he wasn’t holding anything, or it was likely to have been destroyed.

“Maybe. I- I got her with a CO2 fire extinguisher and it seemed to hurt her.”

“A... fire extinguisher?” Sasha sounded incredulous. “Where did you get one of those?”

“I don’t really remember? It was kind of a blur, I just grabbed whatever was near me. Maybe someone was throwing one out?” Jon ran a hand through his already mussed hair.

“What did she look like?” Tim asked, taking a sip of tea.

“Horrible, full of worms...” Jon sighed. “I suppose I should... should make a statement?”

“Really? You got attacked by Jane Prentiss and your first thought is to make a statement?” Tim scoffed.

“Technically I went home and failed to sleep. It’s just- I mean... Statements are what we do here? It would be good to have it on file.” There was a small pause and Jon pulled out a tape recorder. “I managed to capture some of our conversation, but it’s muffled.”

“Do I even want to know why you had that on you?” Sasha asked.

“No, no you really don’t.”

“Should we talk to Elias about this?” Martin piped up. “If someone is in contact with Prentiss and sent her after you...”

“Probably, if she’s going after Archive staff,” Jon replied. “We should stock up on extinguishers.”

“Are we safe to go home?” Tim asked, frowning into his mug.

“I... I don’t really know. I think so? She probably doesn’t know where you all live, and she certainly didn’t follow me home. That might have been the CO2 though.” Jon bit his lip, muttering in a voice so quiet only Martin could hear, thanks to his close proximity. “This didn’t happen last time.”

“She was told where to find you, though.” Sasha was adamant.

“Look...” Jon sighed. “I’ll... I’ll talk to Elias and see about him increasing security for the building as well as ask him what he thinks we should do in this situation. See if I can get him to purchase some CO2 extinguishers we can keep around the Archives.”

“Jon, are you sure you’re alright? You look exhausted.” Martin couldn’t keep the worry out of his voice. “I can ask Elias for you.”

It took a minute for Jon to get to his feet— his movements were sluggish and it was all Martin could do to keep from helping him, to not reach out a hand to steady him when it looked like he might topple over. “I’m fine. I just need to talk to Elias.” He stumbled off out of the break room on wobbly legs, leaning heavily against the door as he made his way out of the Archives. He’d probably rely on the railing going upstairs, god forbid anyone put an elevator in this place and ruin its aesthetic.

“Should I... follow him?” Martin turned to the others, hands clasped together like they were the only thing preventing him from running off after Jon.

“I’m certainly not going to stop you.” Tim sat down at the chair Jon had just vacated. “There are several more staircases he has to climb before he reaches Elias’s office.”

By the time Martin caught up with Jon they were almost to the top floor and it was an effort to stay out of sight. The last thing Martin wanted to happen was for Jon to see him and be caught following his boss like some kind of worried... friend. They were just friends, and it was completely natural for anyone to worry if they saw their friend in such a state.

When Jon got to Elias’ office he didn’t even have to knock before the door opened. “Hello Jon. You needed to speak to me?” There was an awkward moment when nobody spoke before Jon nodded and walked inside, Elias making a point of meeting Martin’s eyes before closing the door behind them.

“Fine, I’ll make this quick.” Jon’s voice was cold. “Did you send Prentiss after me?” Martin had to cover his mouth with his hands to keep from gasping.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“I’m sure you do. Prentiss said that my ‘Master’ told her where I’d be and that she was to greet me. There’s only one person who she could have been referring to.” Jon sounded... he sounded like a different person. It was a little scary.

“Your ‘Master?’ Because I’m your boss, you suspect me?” Elias’s tone was cool, collected, but it felt sharp and accusing. Like the cold blade of a knife pressed to one’s throat.

“I don’t exactly have any enemies. I can’t think of anyone else who would have sent her after me.” Again, Jon’s voice seemed to belong to a stranger. “I haven’t exactly done anything to attract her attention apart from trying to find statements about her. I can’t think of anyone outside of the Institute who would know what I’m doing.”

“I assure you, I don’t understand what you’re implying.”

“Fine, play dumb. I don’t care what you send after me. Just leave the rest of the Archive staff out of it. They don’t deserve to have Jane targeting them too.” Jon sighed and Martin could practically see him running a hand through his hair. “I want you to increase security for the Institute, and I want you to change the fire suppression system to CO2 extinguishers.”

“Why the CO2?” Elias asked, still calm.

“It kills the worms, and it seems to damage her. I want to make sure that if she targets me again, we’re prepared.”

“Fine, if it will ease your fears.” Elias coughed, not seeming particularly worried about the fact one of his employees had been approached by someone who’d killed at least six people. “I have just one question. Why do you keep going into the tunnels?”

Tunnels? What was Elias talking about? What was Jon doing?

“Come now Elias, you can’t expect me to stumble upon a trapdoor leading to tunnels under the Institute and not go in them.” Jon’s voice was almost back to normal now that he was the one on the defensive. “Especially since it seems like the remains of Millbank Prison are down there. As a researcher I had to see what was down there, and I’m sad to report that apart from some moldering old books and cobwebs, they seem to be empty.”

“I’m not paying you to go into tunnels below the Institute, Jon.”

“How did you know I was going down there? I didn’t think there were any cameras in the Archives.”

"I came down to talk to you about something and I saw the trapdoor open, despite the fact I’d locked it. You were the only one still in the building at the time, it wasn’t a hard deduction to make.” Elias’s tone was still calm, but it sent a chill down Martin’s spine anyway. “Don’t go down there again.”

“Don’t use a lock that’s easy to pick, then,” Jon retorted. “I’ll make you a deal. I won’t go in the tunnels, and you won’t send anyone after me or anyone else in the Archives. That, and you get CO2 extinguishers for the Archives and look into changing the fire suppression system for the Institute. Someone sent Prentiss after me, so there’s a chance they’re targeting your staff.”

“Jon, you’re in no position to be making demands-”

“Then fire me. I refuse to work in a place where my employer sends monsters after me to keep me in line,” Jon hissed. “I refuse to be a pawn in someone’s game.”

There was a pause before Elias spoke, his tone icy. “Go home, Jon. You’ve had a traumatic experience and you should be recovering. Take a few days off and come back when you’re thinking more clearly.”

The office door swung open, and Martin had barely enough time to jump back in order to avoid being hit. Jon stormed out, his eyes flashing as he spat the words over his shoulder. “Fine... fine. Just don’t let anyone else get hurt while I’m gone.”

There was an awkward moment when Jon spotted Martin standing there, and it was like his green eyes were glowing. Then he blinked and they were back to normal, narrowing in suspicion as he looked Martin up and down. _“What did you hear?”_

Martin wanted to lie. He wanted to say he’d just gotten there and hadn’t heard anything, but the words spilled from his lips almost against his will. “I didn’t mean to... I heard everything. I was worried because you looked like you might faint, so I followed you.”

Instead of getting mad, Jon sighed and walked past Martin towards the staircase, taking off his glasses and wiping them hastily on his shirt. He didn’t say anything as they both descended the stairs to the Archives, but when they were back the others looked up from their desks in interest. “What did Elias say?” Tim asked.

“He’ll look into increasing security and getting us some more extinguishers, but he claims I need to go home and ‘recover from my traumatic experience.’ If you can believe it.”

“Fair point, you do seem pretty shaken.” Sasha muttered, returning her gaze to her laptop.

“I’ll make the statement then leave. I want to get it on tape before I forget any details.” Jon headed to his office, closing the door behind him louder than was probably necessary.

“Did you hear any of what they talked about?” Tim asked.

“N-no.” Martin stammered, the lie coming out easily this time. “They were quiet and I couldn’t hear them.”

Both Tim and Sasha looked at him suspiciously. “Too bad, I would have loved to hear Jon going after Elias.”

“I don’t think Elias would care, he seems pretty laid back about all the dangerous stuff we deal with on a daily basis.” Sasha replied.

“Still, I’d pay money to see them fight.”

“I don’t think you’d enjoy it,” Martin muttered, sitting down at his own desk and trying not to think about what he’d overheard.

* * *

**5th March, 2016**

It was lucky that Jon had already decided against going into the tunnels any more. He'd already gotten as much information as he thought Leitner could give him, and while he’d found Gertrude’s body again he’d decided against reporting it for the moment. He had listened to all the tapes in the room with her but they hadn’t given him much insight into how he could stop Jonah or the Extinction. He’d found the tape Gertrude had made for her replacement, pocketing it just in case he needed to use it for anything. Listening to it again had hurt just as much as it had the first time, but now he could actually use her advice.

By all rights, he really should report that he’d found Gertrude. it certainly wouldn’t look good for him if it came out that he’d known she was there and not said anything. He’d worn gloves when handling the tapes, but there was always a chance that a strand of hair or some other bit of DNA had been left behind that might point to him as the culprit. Jon really, really didn’t want to get accused of murder again, but how did one even bring up finding the corpse of their predecessor in secret tunnels underneath their work? He’d keep quiet for now. It was just another thing he’d have to deal with.

It had surprised Jon that Martin hadn’t asked any questions about the conversation he’d overheard, but on the other hand, it was just so very like him to keep everything inside. The Martin of this time period was used to not asking questions even if he wanted to know things; he didn’t want to make waves and have people dislike him. It was a bit sad, mostly because Jon had seen the kind of person Martin was capable of being: kind but stubborn, comforting yet steadfast. He’d tricked Peter Lukas for months, sacrificed his own well-being for others’ safety. He was such a wonderful person, and it was depressing to see him not living up to his full potential. Maybe that was why Jon hadn’t told him off for eavesdropping— he’d known there was no malicious intent. Still, he hoped that his actions wouldn’t lead Martin into questioning his behavior more.

It had been interesting to learn that while Elias evidently had seen the trapdoor opening, he hadn’t been able to see what Jon was doing in the tunnels. Apparently “A Disappearance” was hiding him from the Eye to some degree. Still, Elias must have told Jane to go to the tube station and wait for Jon to arrive, knowing that he would have to pass by her on his way home. How had he contacted her, though?

It was two days before Jon went back to the Institute. Most of the time had been spent trying to formulate some kind of plan in case Jane did attack again. The last time she’d been forced to strike before she was ready due to the hole he’d put in his office. That hole very well might have been the thing that prevented her from progressing in whatever ritual she’d been attempting in the tunnels. It would have failed, of course– all rituals were doomed to fail– but it was entirely plausible that whatever damage she might have done if actually given enough time to prepare would have been much more severe.

Not being able to go into the tunnels again would mean that if she did start something down there, he couldn’t do anything about it. Or he could just flood the tunnels with CO2 and pray that Leitner could use the Seven Lamps of Architecture to rearrange the walls so he wasn’t affected. He’d managed to avoid Jane the first time around, plus he’d survived undetected until now— it was entirely plausible, right?

The other thing Jon worried about was that Elias seemed to know that something was up with him, that his change in behavior was more than just trying to be a better boss. Then again, he had practically gone off on Elias with claims of sending eldritch horrors at Jon. In hindsight it wasn’t the best course of action. It was unlikely that anyone knew that Jon was a time-traveler, but in a place where the supernatural could be found down the hall in Artifact Storage, there were dozens of reasons for someone to be acting strange. Elias might suspect that another Entity was targeting his Archivist— the Web, possibly? Jon had been Marked by it before even joining the Institute. Maybe Elias was seeking to eliminate any threat without getting his hands dirty.

Looking up at the pillars of the Institute, Jon took a deep breath and headed inside. He’d have to be more careful to not attract any more suspicion. If he died, then there would be nobody to stop the world ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how about that season 5? I can't wait to have my heart ripped out of my chest this week!
> 
> Also, I'm just waiting with bated breath til I can post chapter 6... It's like I have this delicious cake but I can't give it out because I need to let people enjoy the last bit of cake I gave them.
> 
> Still... The wait is killing me. Writing other AUs can only help so much.


	6. 20th March, 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit shorter than the others but I do hope the content makes up for it. Note, I have a 5 chapter backlog, this was already written when I started posting. 
> 
> Much thanks to Ostentenacity for being a wonderful beta, as always. 
> 
> Enjoy~

**20th March, 2016**

The first thing Martin noticed was the warmth. In the Lonely, there was no heat— it was just cold and emptiness. It was a chill that numbed you down to your core so you couldn’t feel anything else.

It felt as though he was waking up, but that meant he’d fallen asleep, which he didn’t remember doing. He’d really just _existed,_ there in that void, without any sense of time passing, and if that annoying noise would just stop he might be able to figure out what was going on.

Wait. Noise? There weren’t any noises in the Lonely. It was a quiet place— a place where, at first, the thoughts in your own head were the only thing to hear besides static, but even those faded after a time. Martin opened his eyes slowly and was greeted with a blur. He couldn’t see anything clearly. Why couldn’t he see anything?

Realization hit him. He wasn’t wearing his glasses— had he lost them? What had happened? He reached out a hand and it became colder, pressure lifting as he instinctively scrabbled to the right and found his glasses on a hard surface.

Putting them on, he blinked as the world came into focus. This was the bedroom of his flat. More specifically, it was the flat in Stockwell he’d lived in before being trapped by Jane Prentiss for nearly a fortnight, the flat he’d had to move out of after she’d died just to escape the memory of her. How had he gotten back here when he’d been in the Lonely for so long? He sat up slowly, looking around the room that was so familiar yet so foreign to him.

As he gradually became more awake, he knew that he’d come here after a day of work in the Archives, doing preliminary research on some statement that seemed to be more a case of sleep-paralysis than actual paranormal activity.

Martin had clear memories of how Tim and Sasha had commented on Jon’s behavior as of late. How, since he’d fainted in June, he'd been acting strange. Nicer, less strict about the others wasting his time, more thankful for their hard work. He’d also become somewhat secretive when he wasn’t interacting with them— he did research on certain statements himself rather than letting his assistants handle them. His actions a few weeks ago had been especially out-of-character when he’d taken Martin out for tea, insisting that he was doing a good job, and telling him to not overwork himself.

 _I know you feel like you have to prove your worth, I may not be the easiest person to work for but I do appreciate having you around. Try to take care of yourself and don’t do anything dangerous._ It had sounded so strange coming from Jon, and he’d spent hours trying to figure out what it meant.

That had been the 29th of February— the 29th of February 2016. He had somehow traveled back in time and with his memories of a future that had yet to happen. He knew that that day, he’d been supposed to break into Carlos Vittery’s building as a follow-up, and run into Jane Prentiss, but in this version of the present it hadn’t happened. He hadn’t even read Vittery’s statement.

Memories of the future, a changed present, and Jon acting strange. Was it possible? He didn’t want to get his hopes up. If he was wrong about this theory, then the less he thought about it, well, the less it would hurt in the end.

In the Lonely, he’d felt nothing. It was a void of everything good, and he didn’t know how much time he’d spent trapped in that miserable place. At first he’d thought Jon would come to save him again, but as time went by he came to the realization that nobody was coming. It hollowed him out and he felt the Entity feed on his despair until he simply stopped feeling anything at all. It was a shock to have some of his senses and emotions back, but not all of them had returned yet. He knew he had them— they were just sluggish to awaken. And at the back of his mind the numbness lurked, waiting for a moment of weakness so it could take control. He refused to give it the chance.

Martin fumbled for his phone and looked through his contact list. It was fairly short— mostly work contacts, interspersed with the facility his mum stayed in and a few takeaway places, so finding Jon’s number took only a short time. Actually getting up the courage to call him took longer, but when he finally pressed the button he couldn’t stop his heart from beating erratically. The phone rang for a few seconds before a sleepy voice answered, a note of concern in his tone.

“Martin? It’s three in the morning, is everything alright?” Martin wanted to cry. He’d missed hearing Jon’s voice more than he realized. It took him a moment before it dawned on him, he hadn’t thought to respond, because the next questions sounded somewhat alarmed. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

Taking a deep breath Martin, tried to calm down. “I... I guess I’m technically alright, Jon, I just...” How could he say what he needed to without sounding crazy? “I had a nightmare and needed to tell someone.”

“A... nightmare?” Jon sounded a little put-out at this— clearly he hadn’t expected to be called about a mere dream. “What was it about?”

“Um, well, the world ended...” There was a sharp intake of breath from the other line. “The sky was watching us and creatures of flesh and darkness fed off people's fears. Tea wasn’t tea... It was just the two of us, trying to survive before... before we were separated.”

There was silence on the other end of the call. Had he been wrong? “Jon, are you still there?”

“I have one question about this, this nightmare.” Jon’s voice was shaky as he spoke. “Before the world ended, did you see any good cows?”

Martin couldn’t help it, he started to cry. “They’re all good cows, Jon.”

“I’m coming over. You clearly need to talk about this face-to-face. I’ll be there as quick as I can. I won’t hang up, keep talking to me.”

“How is this possible?” Martin asked, wiping tears from his cheeks as he clutched the phone in shaking hands.

“Helen, the Distortion, sent me back to prevent the ritual from happening. I thought she only sent me, but maybe it just took her a while to find you.” There was a pause and the sound of a shaky breath being taken. “I can’t believe she found you. I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.”

Martin wasn’t sure how long they talked on the phone, how long it took before his front door opened and Jon practically burst in. They just stared at each other for a moment, younger and unscarred by the things they still remembered happening in some parallel universe. Despite technically only seeing Jon yesterday, Martin felt like he’d spent a lifetime in the Lonely, a lifetime apart from this man he loved so much.

It wasn’t clear who moved first, who took that crucial step in closing the gap between them but it didn’t really matter. Jon was here, hugging Martin, sobbing into his shirt. And then they were both crying again. They just stood there for what felt like ages, holding each other as though they were afraid that if they were to break apart, they might never see each other again. Considering that had actually happened after the world ended, it wasn’t so absurd a fear. Finally Martin tugged Jon towards the sofa in his living room, an old brown thing that he’d kept meaning to replace but never gotten around to it, and they settled onto the faded cushions without a word.

It might have been hours before Martin spoke up, an eternity where he simply enjoyed the feeling of being pressed up against Jon. His head rested on Martin’s shoulder, nestled into the crook of his neck, Martin’s cheek pressed against the top of Jon’s head, one hand buried in his hair. “How long has it been since we last held each other like this? I know now that you must have come back in June-”

“One year, four months, and five days.” Jon murmured dreamily. “Twelve hours, thirty-two minutes, and sixteen seconds. Give or take, time travel does make things complicated.”

“Over a year? Jon...” Martin’s heart ached, and he began running his fingers through Jon’s hair. It was shorter than it had been the last time he’d done this, less streaked with grey, but no less fun to play with. “Are you okay?”

“I am now...” Jon replied, squeezing Martin a little tighter. “When I first came back it was so weird, you were there but... you weren’t... you weren’t _my_ Martin.”

“Jon...”

“I felt so conflicted because on one hand you were still sweet and hardworking, but you just weren’t the man I’d fallen in love with. You weren’t well... _you_ yet. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah.”

“It just hurt so _much_.” Jon began sobbing into Martin’s jumper. “It was like you had amnesia and didn’t remember everything we’d been through. I loved you so much, but I knew you didn’t love me the same way, and part of me wanted to just give up on you so I could move on with my life. Then you’d smile at me and I’d just melt again. I didn’t know what to do.”

“I’m here now. I’m here, and I don’t plan on leaving,” Martin murmured, pulling Jon’s face up so they were looking each other in the eye. Martin wiped the tears away, planting a gentle kiss to Jon’s forehead before hugging him tightly again. “I guess that explains why I kept seeing you stare at me when you thought I wasn’t looking.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think you noticed.”

“Then there was the whole taking me to a cafe thing. That really sent the wrong message.”

“To be fair, my main goal was making sure you didn’t meet Jane Prentiss, and the tea shop was the best idea I could come up with.” Jon practically pouted.

“Jon, everyone else there was on a date. You had to realize what it looked like.” It was hard for Martin to not laugh at the expression on Jon’s face.

“Once again, the point was to keep you safe.”

“There had to have been a better way to achieve that, though. Maybe just letting me come home would have been enough?”

“I also genuinely thought you’d like the place.” Jon huffed.

“Oh! The birthday gift makes sense now!” Martin laughed. “I was so confused, like— why did you get me a cow?”

“It is a very good cow, Martin. I saw it and couldn’t resist buying it for you, even if you didn’t quite get what it meant. Then again, I had hoped you wouldn’t realize it was from me.” Jon got quiet, obviously embarrassed.

“You can’t just leave someone a present on their desk and not have them try to figure out who it's from!”

“Well I know that now!”

There was a moment of silence between Martin spoke again. “Speaking of... knowing things, how human are you this time around?”

“I think I’m mostly human.” Jon replied. “I still Know things occasionally and I accidentally compelled you a few weeks ago. Plus tape recorders are still appearing in places, and I can’t really control them.”

“Should I even bother asking what our next moves should be? Or do you want to just stay like this for a little longer before we deal with the whole ‘preventing the end of the world’ thing?”

“What time is it?” Jon asked sleepily.

The clock on the wall was barely visible in the dimly-lit room but Martin was able to make it out. “It’s around six AM.”

“Gimme until ten, it’s been over a year since I last saw you and...” There was a deep, long sigh. “I really need this.”

Martin could understand how Jon felt. Sensation and emotions were still coming back to him, like a limb that had fallen asleep and was slow to regain sensation. So much of him was numb from being in the Lonely for so long and he knew that healing from what he’d endured would be a slow process. Both of them had been through so much, but they now had each other to lean on so they could recover from their traumas. “Take all the time you need.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember how I only said original Martin was "gone" and I never said he was dead? This is why.


	7. 28th March, 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for mild fighting, a panic attack, and some dissociation thanks to the Lonely. I don't think it's too serious but I figured I'd mention it anyway. 
> 
> Thanks to Ostentenacity for the beta, I really appreciate it!
> 
> Thanks to all of you for the response to the last chapter! Enjoy!

**28th March 2016**

The following week might very well have been the best of Jon’s life. Martin was back. _His_ Martin. The most wonderful man in the universe was back, and they could work together to prevent the world from ending. It was an effort to not spend most of his day simply staring at Martin, to ignore his work and memorize the curves of his face and every freckle. He knew he was supposed to care that worms had started appearing outside the Institute, but Jon was so blissfully happy that it seemed less important.

Apparently Jon hadn’t been doing as good a job hiding his feelings as Martin was, because Tim had actually approached him in the break room. “Is there any reason you’re looking at Martin like he might vanish?”

It was hard to suppress the heat that flooded his face at the question, and he sputtered out a response too quickly. I’m making sure Martin is doing his work correctly.”

“Look, you’re allowed to like Martin, he’s a great guy, but if you don’t go after him soon someone else might snatch him up. Remember that secret admirer?” Tim smirked, clearly not knowing it had been Jon who gave Martin the birthday present.

“I don’t _like_ Martin.” He loved Martin, there was a difference.

“Right. Whatever you say, boss.” Tim hadn’t looked impressed but he hadn’t pressed the issue since.

It was after work, around eight days after Martin had arrived in the past, when they started planning. He and Jon were curled up on his sofa again, just enjoying each other’s presence. “What should we tell Sasha?” Martin asked, somewhat dreamily.

“Tell Sasha about what?” Jon murmured, his head resting lazily on Martin’s chest as his hair was played with once again. “Oh— Michael will be showing up soon, right. We need to warn her.”

“Yeah, but what exactly do we say to her? We can’t just go ‘so, if you see a blond man with weird hands, don’t approach him,’ can we?”

“Well, the original reason he found her was apparently because he was interested in saving us; you, me, and Tim. It might be worth seeing what he has to say, just not letting her go to that pub and meet with Timothy Hodge.”

“True. Should you just ask everyone in the Archives to tell you if anything strange happens to them?” Martin asked.

“I can do that. Maybe something like ‘Jane Prentiss was purposely sent after me by an unknown entity and I need to know if they’re targeting anyone else in the Archives so I can bring it up with Elias.’ Does that sound good?”

“It sounds a bit paranoid. What about ‘please let me know if anything weird happens to you, I’m trying to be a good boss and friend.’ How’s that?”

“I think they would be even more concerned for my mental health than they already are,” Jon muttered, removing his glasses so they weren’t digging into his face.

“True, I guess we need to find a good balance between paranoia and out-of-character kindness.”

“I can just say ‘keep me posted on anything weird that happens, because weird stuff is undoubtedly going to happen and I’d prefer to know about it when it does.’ That doesn’t sound too suspicious.”

“That works.” Martin replied, continuing to run his fingers through Jon’s hair, and it was all Jon could do to not melt from contentment.

“Okay, one thing on the agenda worked out.” Jon has to keep from getting distracted from happiness. “Next up, Melanie will probably stop by the Institute next month. I am going to continue not taking statements from anyone directly, so someone else will have to talk to her.”

“Ahhh, so that’s why you had Sasha help Naomi.”

“Yeah, I don’t plan on giving anyone nightmares this time around. Not intentionally anyway.” That was a promise Jon intended to keep.

“What’s after that?”

“Uh, the Web table should be dropped off by Breekon and Hope sometime over the summer. The lighter, too. We need to make sure that the table is properly handled so the NotThem don’t escape, and clearly smashing it with an ax is not the best solution.”

“Maybe we can just reject the delivery?” Martin asked.

“Doubtful. It would be for the best if we do know where it is, so that we know it can’t be a threat in the future. It might be best to seal it away with the other dangerous artifacts, use the statements as proof that it needs to be contained.”

“What about the lighter?”

“Put it in storage too? I assume it’s connected to the Web, and I don’t know what it is capable of doing. Best to keep it locked away.”

“Alright. So that’s Sasha, Melanie, and the table figured out— for the most part anyway. What’s next on the list?” Martin had stopped playing with Jon’s hair and moved on to tracing his finger in lazy circles on Jon’s back.

There was a moment of silence where Jon worked up the courage to respond. From the sudden shift in Martin’s position on the sofa it was possible he’d thought Jon had fallen asleep. “Move in with me.”

In response Martin started to laugh, prompting Jon to pull away from him with a hurt expression on his face. “You can’t be serious, Jon.”

“Why not? We’ve stayed at each other’s flats every day since you got back, what’s the difference?”

“Jon, we’ve only been going out for a month. We’re not even officially dating because it’s probably against Institute rules.”

“What’s Elias going to do? Fire us?” Jon was adamant, his brow furrowed and his lips pursed in a pout.

“Probably not, but it would attract unwanted attention. He’s probably already suspecting something is up from how you’ve been staring at me since I got back.”

“You’re really pretty, I can’t help it!”

Martin laughed. “Tim and Sasha have already been asking me what happened between us. They know something’s up. If we start coming to work together regularly we won’t hear the end of it.”

“I don’t care. Move in with me.” Jon refused to let the matter drop.

“Jon...” Martin hesitated, clearly not knowing how best to phrase what he wanted to say.

“What?”

“Your flat is... really small for two people. It’s fine for you but-”

“Well I’m surprised you still want to stay here.” Jon interrupted. “I know it wasn’t in this timeline but you were trapped here for almost a fortnight by Jane Prentiss.”

“So?”

“Doesn’t that unnerve you?”

“Not anymore... I know if anything happens to me you’ll be here to help.” Martin flushed bright red.

“So, should I move in with you?”

“I’m not saying that either!”

“What, should we go flat-shopping then?” Jon asked. “It might be hard to find a decent place while balancing saving the world but I’m willing to try.”

“Why are you so insistent about living together?”

“Martin, do I need to remind you about the one year, four months, and five days we spent apart?” Jon couldn’t forget, his brain wouldn’t let him forget just how miserable he’d been.

“Jon, I spent most of that time in the Lonely. Don’t talk like you were the only one suffering,” Martin snapped, suddenly tired of having Jon play the victim. “Do you know what it’s like to be trapped there and realizing that nobody... nobody is coming for you.”  
His voice broke on the last words and he started to cry.

“Martin...” Jon reached out to wipe away Martin’s tears but stopped when he saw the expression on Martin’s face. He had forgotten just how much Martin had suffered during the time they’d been apart. A stupid mistake.

“Listen to me, Jon... I didn’t think I’d see you again either, but after enough time went by, I didn’t know my own name. I didn’t know who I was or what I’d been through, all there was... there was just nothing. It’s like being underwater and too numb to feel anything, you can’t see or hear. Can you imagine being like that for over a year?” The tears flowed relentlessly, all the memories of being trapped in the Lonely seemed to come flooding back in a horrible wave. The Beholding seemed to take advantage of Jon’s panic and the door opened, plunging him down into Martin’s memories.

It felt like a betrayal, an invasion of privacy, but there was nothing Jon could do. He was back on the beach, surrounded by fog. Nobody was there besides him, and no matter how much he cried out, there was only the silence. He was completely alone.

That... that wasn’t true, though... he Knew, deep inside, that he wasn’t alone anymore. He might not be on that beach in the Lonely, but someone he loved dearly was.

It was as though he’d been sinking into thick mud. Pulling his consciousness back to reality took more effort than Jon had been prepared for. He did return, though— he was back in Martin’s flat, on that faded brown sofa he disliked. The sound of rain hitting the windows came to him slowly and he sat up to look at Martin, Martin who was staring straight ahead without actually seeing anything, his eyes cloudy and unfocused. The Lonely hadn’t left him fully, just like the Beholding still kept Jon in its clutches.

Still, the Lonely needed to leave the people he loved alone.

“Martin!” Jon shook Martin, gently at first, but then harder once it became clear that being gentle wouldn’t cut it. “Martin! Look at me!” It took a few seconds for those blue eyes to clear, to notice Jon in front of him, then he started to tear up.

“Martin, this is part of why I... I need you. Maybe it’s selfish to ask you to move in with me, but...” It was all Jon could do to keep from crying as well. “We’ve both been through too much, seen too many horrible things. I can help you if you start falling back into the Lonely, and I need you to help me if I start to lose track of who I am, if... if the Archivist starts taking over again.”

“T-the Archivist?” Martin asked. It seemed like he was struggling to focus on what Jon was saying.

“After... after you vanished, there was a period of months where I wasn’t myself. The Eye took advantage of my hopelessness and I became... I call it the Archivist.” Jon sighed, looking weary. “Do you remember what that woman said to you in her complaint? About me approaching her in a coffee shop and demanding a statement? It was like that, but worse. I wasn’t human, and I took to forcing statements from anyone I passed. I don’t know what exactly made me come back to myself, but I’m terrified of becoming that... that thing again.”

“Is that why you’re so afraid to take statements from people?” Martin asked nervously.

“Sort of. I don’t want to have any more powers than I already have. I don’t even want to use the ones I do have. It feels wrong, like I’m giving in to the Eye. And I don’t want it to have more hold over me than it already has.” Jon released a shuddering breath, the horrible memories pushing on that door in his mind. If he let his guard down, the guilt and panic might overwhelm him. “I know that if I want to stop Elias I will have to rely on... on the Archivist’s powers, but every time I slip up and Know something, I feel that hunger for knowledge, and I’m scared to lose myself again. What if I can’t go back this time?”

“You just said it,” Martin replied. “I’ll help you if it comes to that. You can rely on me, Jon. Don’t try to do everything by yourself.”

“I don’t-”

Martin started counting things off on his fingers. “You tried to figure out who killed Gertrude by stalking everyone, and when you found out the table was connected to the NotThem you decided to send everyone home for the day so you could smash it-”

“That was-” Jon couldn’t help but get defensive, even if he knew what Martin said was true.

“A request that Tim and I deliberately ignored because you were acting so suspicious, and if you had told us _why_ you wanted us to leave, maybe we would have listened to you.”

“Would you?” Jon couldn’t help but ask.

“Probably not. More likely, we would have tried to figure out some way to help you, and the two of us might not have ended up in the tunnels or being threatened by Michael.” Martin gave a pointed stare. “My point still stands: you didn’t trust us enough to tell us just what was on your mind, and it nearly got us killed.”

“I made mistakes, alright? Lord knows I have made more mistakes than any one man should be allowed, but that’s why I’m here again, trying to fix them.”

“That’s fine Jon. Just don’t do anything by yourself. I-” Martin’s voice broke. “I don’t want to lose you again. I don’t want to visit you in the hospital and think you’re dead. We were _both_ given a second chance, so let’s make the most of it. Take it one step at a time and work together.”

“Alright. I’ll try.”

“Good. That’s all I’m asking.”

“So, going back to what I said earlier... you don’t want to move in together?” Jon couldn’t help but ask again.

Martin laughed, and Jon wished he could bottle the sound. Despite the tears he’d shed only a few minutes before, it was bubbly, and affected Jon just like champagne. “I’ll think about it, alright? Give me a bit more time to figure stuff out. I’ve been back for barely a month, I’m still adjusting to things.”

“All right. Can we also think about getting a cat once the world’s been saved? I keep wanting to reach out to Georgie just to see the Admiral again.” It would be nice to reconnect with Georgie under different circumstances, not being accused of murder and using her flat as shelter. They might be able to stay friends this time around.

“Jon... I love you, but can we stay on topic? We were supposed to be talking about steps we can take to prevent the world from ending. Jane Prentiss might still attack the Institute.” Jon’s heart gave a flip in his chest at Martin’s words.

“I love you too, in case I haven’t said it already.” Instantly Martin’s face flushed, as though he hadn’t realized what he’d done. _He’s too adorable,_ Jon thought wistfully. “Well, you heard me promise Elias to stay out of the tunnels, but you made no such promise.”

“I really don’t want to go down there looking for her, even if I have an extinguisher.”

“That’s understandable, what if we just flood the tunnels with CO2?”

“I don’t think it would do any good.” Humming softly, Martin bit his lip. “The tunnels are too big. We’d need a massive amount of gas for it to make a difference.”

“What if... Maybe we could all go after her together?” Jon asked.

“What? We’re just going to tell Elias that we know Jane Prentiss is down there without any actual proof, and that we’re going after her with fire extinguishers?” Once again Martin laughed, and it was such a beautiful sound.

“What do you think we should do then?”

“I think we should handle Sasha meeting Michael first, talk to him ourselves and see if he can give us any new information, then go from there.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Jon nodded in agreement before settling back against Martin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter count might change because I had a moment of inspiration that is likely to add more words.


	8. 29th March, 2016 - 1st April, 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Ostentenacity for the beta!
> 
> There's a lot goin on here.

**29th March 2016**

“Because a lot of strange things have been happening lately, I would like everyone to tell me if something does happen to them.” Jon announced from his office door after everyone had arrived for work, having done his best to look like a respectable boss and not the lovestruck fool he so often found himself turning into whenever he thought about Martin. “You don’t have to make a statement, but I’d like to be informed if something does happen.”

“Strange how?” Tim asked, leaning back in his chair and lifting an eyebrow. “Besides the worms? I saw a few upstairs. Squashed them before they could do anything.”

“Yes, besides the worms. I mean strange in an actually paranormal sense-”

“Okay then, something weird has been happening to me for the past few months. I’ve been coming to work, and my boss, a guy who used to be one of the most serious and aloof people I have ever met, suddenly started being nice to his staff. What’s up with that?”

“Do- do you mean me?” The answer was fairly obvious but Jon wanted to hear the reasoning behind Tim’s words.

“Yeah. Did something ‘strange’ happen to you or were you just called into Elias’ office and told off?”

“So... you want me to be mean to everyone again?” Jon wasn’t sure exactly how to respond.

“No? That wasn’t what I meant at all, but it’s just weird. You pass out and start acting like a good boss?” Tim frowned in confusion. “You asked if anything odd was happening, and I know that we’ve had multiple statements about doppelgangers, it’s kind of a normal conclusion to make?”

“Tim... You’ve known me since I started here.”

“Yeah, and you’ve been a real asshole for most of that time, so what’s changed?”

“Maybe I don’t want people to think of me like that anymore?” It was a weird thing to realize, to admit aloud. Jon hadn’t actually come to terms with just how much he didn’t like people thinking he was a rude, indifferent person. He’d changed a lot over the years, not only because he’d become less human, but because he’d grown as a person. It was true that nobody besides Martin actually knew what’d he’d been through; the things they’d both endured that had shaped them into the people they now were. Then again, even Martin didn’t know everything.

It didn’t matter. Jon could try to fix his relationships with people now, but he had to actually put in the effort. “Martin talked to me after I fainted and it made me realize that I’d been pretty horrible to all of you, so I’m trying to change.”

“Wait...” Tim looked taken aback at the confession. “You... you’re actually acknowledging that you were a dick? Just what did he say to you? Did he finally confess?”

“Tim!” Martin blurted out, his face flushing bright red. Jon’s cheeks felt warm as well, but their reactions seemed answer enough.

“He did, didn’t he? Is that why you’ve been staring at him like some besotted lover?” Tim was smiling now, all suspicion forgotten in the wake of new developments.

“I haven’t-”

“Did you leave him that gift for his birthday?” Realization dawned on Tim’s face and his smile grew even bigger. “It _was_ you! I know you got Sash a gift for hers, but you just handed it to her. Mine’s not for a few months-”

“You’re not getting anything if you keep this up.”

“Are you dating now? Is that why you’ve grown soft, Jon? Did you and Martin actually start dating?”

“Tim...” Martin’s face was beet red, despite the courage he’d gained from all that he’d endured it was clear that this was a topic he didn’t want to discuss where other staff members could hear it. “Please, let it go...”

It was only then did Tim seem to notice how much discomfort he was causing Martin. “Oh... Sorry Martin, I was just... I was excited for you. If you’re the reason that Jon’s stopped being... well Jon, then keep it up!”

“Can we get back to the topic at hand?” Despite the fact his skin was darker than Martin’s, Jon had no doubt it was also flushed in embarrassment. “If you see anything weird, please tell me. This is a matter of safety, and if something is targeting Institute staff then I need to know if something happens.”

“Roger, boss. If I notice any... Joe Spooky stuff going on, then you’ll be the first to know.” Tim was still grinning, rotating back and forth in his chair.

“I’ll let you know if something happens.” Sasha nodded. It was clear that she was also curious about Martin and Jon’s relationship, but, unlike Tim, she knew that some things were best discussed elsewhere. “Want to get drinks Friday after work?”

“If it will get everyone to go back to doing their jobs, sure,” Jon muttered, making his way to his office, although he did exchange a meaningful glance with Martin before he shut the door. They were going to have to figure out some kind of story to tell everyone.

* * *

Well _that_ had been humiliating. Despite nearly an hour having passed since their awkward discussion, Martin’s face still burned. Technically neither he nor Jon had confirmed Tim’s assumption, but they also hadn’t denied it, and that was all the Archives crew needed to jump to conclusions. He just hoped Elias wouldn’t do anything. Technically neither one of them could get fired, but there was no telling what someone who treated people like pawns might do. He'd beaten a man to death with a pipe for god's sake!

The rest of the day seemed to drag on, the normally dull task of researching statements somehow even more arduous knowing that he and Jon would have an awkward conversation when they returned to Martin’s flat. Although their discussion yesterday had been... a bit tense, it was clear why Jon had made the offer to begin with. They did practically live together already— both of them spent most of their time outside of work in one or the other of their flats. Even so, by the time it was finally time to leave, Martin was immensely looking forward to spending the rest of the evening doing nothing.

Unsurprisingly, Jon was still buried in a pile of paperwork when Martin knocked on his office door. Through the window it was amusing to see him jump and knock over a tape recorder at the sudden noise, taking a moment to compose himself before greeting Martin. “Has everyone left for the day?” he asked, looking tired.

“Yeah, Tim and Sasha are gone. How long do you think it will take to wrap stuff up?”

“A few minutes. I’m almost done with this statement.”

There was a sudden chill in the room, causing the hair on the back of Martin’s neck to stand on end. Then a door appeared on the back wall of Jon’s office. A yellow door that was horrifyingly familiar as was the hand that came out once it opened. A hand with long fingers that seemed to twist slightly as Jon stared, like the reflection in a fun-house mirror, and belonged to a creature with curly blond hair and a too-wide smile. “Good thing I came before you left. I’d hate to have missed you.”

“Michael.” The way Jon said the name wasn’t a question or a greeting, just an acknowledgement.

“I guess you can call me that— it is as good a name as any. I do wonder how you know it though. How you know me. I am certain we have not met before, but a part of me feels as though we have. My tunnels recognize you; my essence has touched you before. Both of you.”

“What do you want with us?” Jon must have not felt like wasting time on Michael’s nonsense, but beside him Martin was uneasy. There was always that uncertainty of just what the creature before them would do, what its goals were, and those things seemed to depend on its mood.

“I came to give advice, since my original plans...” Michael looked sidelong at Sasha’s desk through the window, its face morphing into a look of disappointment like water rippling through a pond. “...were twisted.”

“How kind of you, to save us the trouble of seeking you out.”

“You were looking for me? How interesting, Archivist! What a compliment!” Michaels eyes seemed to swirl, changing colors as Martin watched. It was more than a little unnerving.

“Yes, and since you mentioned plans changing I assume you are... aware that my actions are different from what you expected.”

“Yes, although it’s not just your moves that have been different, other players as well... Someone is playing with you, manipulating the Flesh Hive into crossing your path despite your best efforts.” The laugh Michael gave was disturbing, grating against Martin’s ears and causing a headache to form in his temples. “As deliciously entertaining as this is, I can’t stay long. Things have been... mislaid.”

“Alright. What does a servant of the Spiral have to say to me?” Jon’s hands shook slightly at his sides. For all his bravado, Michael still unnerved him.

“I came to tell you that the Flesh Hive will come for you, especially if it is receiving orders from outside forces. You must be prepared for it.”

“Wait!” Martin cried out as Michael made for his door again. “Why are you telling us this? What do you have to gain from this?”

The grin Michael gave in response sent a chill down Jon’s spine, far too wide, the teeth too sharp. “I want you to survive. You all are far too interesting to be done in by the Hive,” it replied, before vanishing along with the door.

For a long moment Jon and Martin just stared at the place where the door had been, neither of them speaking. Finally Martin broke the silence, coughing slightly before gesturing at the rest of the Archives. “Want to go home? I expect that statement won’t go anywhere overnight.”

Shaking his head as though to make sense of what had just happened Jon nodded. “Y-yeah. I think that’d be for the best.”

* * *

**1st April, 2016**

It made sense, with the way everything seemed to be going wrong, that the arrival of the Web table would be strange in this timeline. Breekon and Hope didn’t appear to Martin this time, but had instead just left the table in the middle of the Archives with the lighter and a note written in a messy scrawl. “To the Archivist, delivered with care,” Jon read, looking at the table in disgust.

“How did they get in?” Martin asked, wringing his hands.

“I honestly don’t want to know. At least they didn't leave us anything new to handle. We can ask some people working in Artifact Storage to take them and seal them in the “Dangerous Objects” section.” Jon ran a hand through his hair, irritated by the new developments. Every time he thought he was getting a grasp on things it seemed like the universe threw another twist at him. _Sometimes a literal twist,_ he thought, remembering Michael’s bizzare visit.

“We just tell them that nobody is allowed to be left alone with the table and... I don’t know what the lighter does but maybe we can seal it in a box?”

There came the sound of footsteps coming down the Archives stairs and Tim and Sasha appeared, both holding paper coffee mugs. “What’s that?” Sasha asked, looking at the table.

“Something that was delivered overnight, despite the Institute being locked. I don’t want anyone interacting with them, we don’t know how they got here or who left them,” Jon responded, adjusting his glasses. “I’m getting them sent over to Artifact Storage immediately so we don’t have to deal with them.”

“That’s no fun, boss.” Tim interjected, also eyeing the table with interest. “That pattern is really something.”

“Yes, it certainly is something. It’s likely something dangerous, so don’t touch it. This is the table mentioned in cases 0070107 and 0011206, the ones involving people being replaced by... someone who was not them. Why it was delivered here of all places... I can only see it as a threat or a warning.”

“Wait, this is the same table?” Sasha asked, taking a closer look. “Oh yeah, it’s got the square cut out and everything. That’s unusual.”

“It is. Sasha, can you get some people from Artifact Storage up here so they can take it away, along with the lighter?” Jon frowned, both wanting to pick it up and not knowing just what the thing was capable of.

“Sure thing,” Sasha responded, and within half an hour the Archives were much the same as they had been the day before.

“That was... odd.” Tim commented afterwards, fidgeting with a pen as he spoke.

“Yeah, d’you think this has anything to do with Jon being targeted? First Prentiss, now the table, it definitely seems like someone is going after the Archives.” Sasha agreed, sitting down eagerly in her chair. “More worms are showing up too.”

“I don’t know. I can ask Elias to look at the cameras to see how whoever delivered it got in but... there’s always the possibility that the means they used were something security can’t do anything about.” Jon was starting to get a headache above his left eyebrow. Despite the fact the table was now handled, it was the fact that how it showed up was different that bothered him.

The rest of the day passed smoothly; nothing of interest happened, and Jon was almost able to forget that anything strange had taken place at all. He was getting ready to leave when Martin stepped into his office, still looking anxious.

“Why are things so different this time around?” he asked, his face pale.

It was a question Jon had been asking himself with every change that occurred. Prentiss _had_ still appeared, Michael _had_ still shown up and given advice, and Breekon and Hope _had_ still delivered the table and lighter. It was just the method of how these things happened that was changing, and it led Jon to believe that certain events were set in stone, that time could not be completely rewritten. What if he couldn’t stop the world from ending?

“I... I’m not exactly sure, Martin. I wish I had the answers for you... I could probably get them if I let myself Know things, but I really don’t want to do that.”

“I-I’m not asking you to do that!” Martin stammered, his face turning red. “I just feel a bit useless. Like having come back won’t do anything.”

“I know how you feel... but we’re still here and we can at least try, right?” Jon gave a weak smile, hoping it didn’t betray how hopeless he felt.

Martin returned the smile. “Yeah, let’s do our best. Together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Checks current document* Thirteen and a half chapters, 36k words so far. I'm somehow still doing this. Cheers.
> 
> Also, why are things so different? Says one of the people actively trying to change the future. Gee, I wonder why things are different.


	9. 17th April, 2016 - 10th June, 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much thanks to Ostentenacity for being great beta
> 
> Trigger warning for minor fighting and some canon-compliant worm lady time.
> 
> Also a reminder that there is currently a 5 chapter buffer between this chapter and what is currently written, so there is usually around a month gap before a chapter gets posted.

**17th April, 2016**

Most mornings, Jon would wake up before Martin, and spend blissful minutes just staring at the sun creeping across his partner’s face. Well— he supposed they were partners, although neither of them had actually used the term aloud. Boyfriends sounded too childish, and lovers didn’t apply since they weren’t... partners was the best word. Martin had “relented” and Jon had moved into his flat a little less than a fortnight ago. He’d claimed that sharing a flat would be more cost-effective.

It was nice, in a way, to pretend that they were a normal couple and the worst things that they had to deal with were a weird job and the occasional fight over getting the wrong flavor of jam. These arguments ended, more often than not, in either walking away before things got too heated or realizing how stupid the thing they were fighting about was. In the end they would wind up cuddling on the sofa, laughing and watching some show. Jon liked documentaries, Martin enjoyed cheesy dramas, and both of them wanted to make the other happy, so more often than not whoever got the remote picked what to watch with dinner and the other didn’t complain. Sometimes they changed things up and watched a quiz show.

They had exactly one other semi-serious fight in the time they’d been dating, when Jon had brought up the fact that Martin’s mother was still alive in this timeline. “Do you want to reach out to her?” Jon had asked, trying to be casual about it. He knew that Martin and his mother hadn’t had the best relationship before, but if they were trying to fix things...

“I don’t think so, she’ll just turn me away again. Elias showed me just what she thinks of me and it’s pretty clear she hates me.” The pain in Martin’s voice was evident, and it made Jon hate Elias just a bit more.

“Because you look like your father?”

“Y-yeah...”

“That’s not an acceptable reason to hate you.” Jon replied without thinking. “Just because you look like your father doesn’t mean you are him, it doesn’t give her a right to shut her own son out.”

“Jon... can we not talk about this today?” Martin had asked, his voice shaking.

“Martin, listen. Do you really want her to die again knowing that you didn’t try to see her once? That you didn’t put in the effort to fix your relationship?”

“No, you listen, Jon.” Martin sniffed, his eyes watery. “Just because your relationship with your family was different than mine doesn’t mean you get to-”

“My parents died before I knew them, Martin.” It took all of Jon’s self control to keep his own voice at a reasonable volume. “I was raised by my grandmother, and while she cared for me... she’d already raised her children.” He trailed off lamely.

“Jon...”

“No... I get it. I really don’t have the slightest idea of how families are supposed to work. From the books I read it seemed like they were supposed to care about you, provide love, but I suppose real life and books differ greatly. I’m sorry for trying to tell you what to do.”

“Look at me, Jon,” Martin said, that phrase they used whenever the other was losing themself. “We both... neither of us had very pleasant childhoods. We aren’t the best at dealing with people. But we are trying though—I am trying... I just don’t want to think about my mother quite yet. I know I should try to reconnect with her, especially if she only has a year or so to live. I just... I can’t right now.”

Jon saw no reason to push the issue, so he ordered dinner from his favorite takeaway place and spent the rest of the evening holding Martin, doing everything in his power to make sure that Martin felt safe. He knew not to bring up the issue for a while, not until they could both have a calm discussion about it.

Still, in all the ways their life might have resembled that of a normal couple’s, it wasn’t. Normal couples didn’t experience the world ending due to nightmarish Entities and which resulted in them traveling back in time to prevent such a thing from happening again. It seemed like the sort of thing to appear in books and movies, a quaint little fix-it to make a happy ending where there wasn’t one. Getting out of their bed was the moment Jon forced himself to remember that the precious mornings he shared with Martin wouldn’t continue if he failed to stop Elias.

“What’s the date?” Martin mumbled sleepily, not quite awake despite their alarm having gone off twice.

“The seventeenth of April. Melanie should come to visit today,” Jon replied, drinking in the image of Martin still curled up under a quilt that had once belonged to Jon’s grandmother.

“Fun.”

“Do you want to talk to her or should I ask Tim or Sasha to do it?” The last thing Jon wanted to do was force Martin to talk to anyone he didn’t want to. “Maybe having Sasha take her statement would be for the best. I think she liked Melanie?”

“Did Georgie say anything? Can you pretend that she let you know that Melanie would be coming in?”

Jon had gotten back in touch with Georgie about a week ago, inviting her out for some drinks with him so they could catch up. It was no surprise to him that when she found out that he was dating someone, her eyes lit up and she demanded to meet him. Martin hadn’t had any plans, so he didn’t find it too much trouble to join them at the bar. They’d made plans to go to a trivia night, and Georgie had even suggested that they bring along some of the Archives gang so they’d have a decent team.

“No, I don’t think she and Melanie talk all that much yet.” Jon stretched before going over to the small chest of drawers and looking for something to wear. “It’s not that big a deal, I just can’t be in the same room as her when she gives her statement.”  
There was a rustling noise from behind Jon as Martin pulled a shirt from their closet and began getting dressed. “I’ve been thinking, Jon.”

“Thinking about what?”

“Well, if we’re to go up against Elias... could it hurt for you to develop your powers so you’re more prepared to deal with him?” Martin sounded unsure about what he was saying. “I... I know you said you don’t want to use them more than you have to, but if we get in a situation where you need them but aren’t able to use them...”

“Elias can simply resist being Compelled, he only answered my questions before because he wanted to. Unless the Eye shows me how to stop him I can’t see how Knowing would help me, and every time I accidentally tap into those powers it leaves me starving... I have to consume a statement as soon as possible or I get weak.”

“Alright, so using the Archivist powers isn’t an option. What _can_ we do against Elias?”

“According to Leitner, he and Gertrude wanted to burn down the Archives.” Jon hummed in thought. “Leitner theorized that it might weaken Elias—it might not kill him but it could be enough to let us quit. Also, if the Archives are destroyed, Elias won’t be able to get a new Archivist.”

“Oh...”

“That’s still a task for another day, we’ve got a couple of years before we have to deal with Elias. Let’s do what we can right now.”

* * *

**10th June, 2016**

“Are you _sure_ about this, Jon?” Martin’s face was pale as he gripped the fire extinguisher.

“To be honest, no.” Jon gave a shaky smile as he loaded two bags full of more extinguishers. “I’m not sure about this but I figure there’s no use sitting around and waiting for her to come to us. The last time Prentiss attacked she wasn’t ready, the only reason she acted the way she did was because I made the hole in the wall. If we draw her out now she might be even less prepared, I should have thought of this sooner.”

“So, what? We’re going to just let her into the Archives while everyone is still in the building?”

“No! Of course not! If Jane didn’t get people the CO2 definitely would, the last thing we want is to accidentally poison innocent bystanders. We pull the fire alarm first.”

“This whole plan still seems awfully risky, so much could go wrong.” Martin bit his lip, brows furrowed with concern.

“I think luck plays a big role in anything we do, but the longer we wait around the stronger she gets.” Jon reminded him.

“Right. So we just go to work as usual?”

“We work like there’s nothing going on, get rid of her, then we go home and have the whole weekend to celebrate.”

* * *

Of course things couldn’t possibly be that easy. Nothing in Jon’s life had ever been easy. His whole life had been one hurdle after another, testing him and pushing him to his limits. It would have been so nice to just give up, to leave the world-saving to someone else and pretend to live a normal life. That, however, would probably end in disaster, in the deaths of innocent people, so it was up to him.

Then again, didn’t people say that nothing worth doing was ever easy?

They’d waited for most of the Institute staff to leave when work hours were over. They wanted as few people to be around when they got to business. “You’re not leaving, boss?” Tim had asked when Jon had told him to go home. Sasha had taken off already, talking about meeting friends for drinks.

“No...” Jon had replied somewhat sheepishly. “I still have some recording to finish and I’d like to have most of my work wrapped up before the weekend.”

“Well, I feel the same.” Tim responded, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m just about done here, might as well finish writing this report so it’s not hanging over my head.”

“Tim, go home.”

“Martin hasn’t left either, why is he allowed to-” Tim paused, a look of sudden comprehension on his face that Jon wasn’t sure he liked. “Ah. I see.”

“Whatever you’re thinking, I assure you-”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll leave you two alone. Try not to get caught.” Tim packed up his papers, smiling softly to himself. He ran into Martin on his way to the stairs and gave him a knowing smile. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

There was a moment of silence where Jon and Martin just stared at each other before Martin spoke up. “Do I want to know what that was about?”

“Tim... misinterpreted why we’re staying late.”

“Oh...” Martin’s cheeks flushed pink.

“Yeah...” Jon coughed anxiously. “So, back to work?”

“Y-yeah. Let me know if you need anything?”

Jon waited about half an hour before leaving the Archives, knowing that Elias couldn’t see him thanks to “A Disappearance, and pulled the fire alarm. Any regular employees still in the building would leave, if they had any sense, leaving Jon and Martin to proceed to the next part of the plan. Making the hole in his office wall was easy, the fire extinguisher made an excellent battering ram, and soon enough the worms came flooding in.

It definitely seemed like there were less than last time; the torrent of gross, silvery worms easier to outrun as Jon sprinted for the door. Occasionally he had to spray the extinguisher if a few of them jumped at him, but reaching where Martin waited at the bottom of the stairwell wasn’t too difficult.

“Time to run!” Jon shouted as he sped up the stairs, jumping two at a time and resisting the urge to look over his shoulder.

“Where are you going, Archivist? Do you not hear the song?” Jane’s voice called out after them, raspy and yet there was that underlying squelch as the worms squirmed through her. It sent shivers up Jon’s spine; a disturbing, crawling sensation that instinctively made him check to see if anything had gotten on him. He and Martin would give the extinguisher a spray if necessary but they were able to make it to the small security room where the switch for the fire suppression system was located. They slammed the door behind them, panting heavily and Martin looked out the window on the door while Jon reached for the switch.

“What have you gotten into, Jon?” Elias’ voice came from beside the switch, he’d apparently been lurking in the shadows, waiting for them to come.

“Jane Prentiss...” Jon gasped, trying to calm his racing heart. “She was in... She got in the Archives. Need to... To kill her.”

“I can _see_ that Jon, but I also know that the alarm was set off before she even got in. Why do you suppose that was?”

“How should I know?”

“Answer the question, Jon.” Elias still sounded eerily calm, despite the fact that worms were covering the window with their horrible, writhing bodies. “What, praytell, are you doing?”

“Trying not to be eaten by worms!” Jon snapped, lunging for the switch but Elias stepped in front of it, his eyes cold.

“You will answer me seriously.”

“I am!” Jon retorted, trying to resist the urge to just push Elias out of the way. “I want to stop Jane Prentiss from hurting anyone! With the amount of worms showing up in the Institute I suspected she was in the tunnels and wanted to kill her as soon as possible!”

There was a moment of silence where Elias stared into Jon’s eyes, as though trying to peer into his very soul, which was a very real possibility. Finally he stepped aside. “Fine, go ahead.”

Desperation clawed at Jon and he pulled on the switch, the fire-suppression activating a few seconds later. Jon had expected there to be some kind of noise when the CO2 came out, but until Jane started screaming, there was just the awful squirming of worms. Her death was horrible, Jon had been unconscious last time so he hadn’t heard her, but from the sound she was making she must have been in immense pain. A part of him felt bad for her, this creature who had once been a human. She had willingly given herself over to the Corruption without knowing what it was. She had so desperately wanted to be consumed by the thing that loved her, and by doing so she had become a monster.

Now she would die as one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I technically didn't meet my deadline for this week and I blame half of it on that new episode. Wow, just wow with that one. Also I baked a cake with the new Magnus logo and I'm still in a wrist brace from it because it turns out that overusing your wrist when you already have some carpal tunnel and tendinitis is a bad idea I am prone to ignoring for the sake of having a cake Elias can never eat. Will I post pictures on the internet? Probably not. It will just go down with the other stupid shit I have done for this fandom. Also I was working on like 3 other fics and trying to make them work. 
> 
> I'm rambling aren't I? Anyway, thank you for reading! I'm going to be kinder with my deadlines since I have maybe five chapters left to write and I want to make them good.
> 
> Apologies about replying to comments, I try to reply to everyone's but I often forget until the next time I post a chapter. Time to reply to some comments.


	10. 13th June, 2016 - 2nd October, 2016

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once again Ostentenacity for being a great beta.

**13th June, 2016**

“So... you’re telling that after we left on Friday-” Tim’s expression looked like a mix between horror and disgust.

“Jane Prentiss attacked the Archives, yes.” Jon sighed, settling farther onto the faded brown sofa. Elias had told everyone to stay home until the Institute was in better shape: the floors cleaned of worms and debris, the hole in Jon’s office fixed, the other signs of damage repaired. Upon receiving this news Tim had immediately called Martin, asking to hang out in hopes of hearing something about what had happened.

Jon continued to give the story he and Martin had come up with. “I was recording in my office, there was a spider on the wall that I tried to squish, and I made a hole. Worms started pouring out, so Martin and I headed for the fire suppression system, setting off the alarm along the way so everyone who was still in the building would leave.”

“Wow, are you two alright? Did the worms get you?” Sasha asked, her voice sounding concerned.

“Yeah, for the most part we’re fine. A little shaken but... We were lucky that we acted as fast as we did.” Martin resisted the urge to wrap an arm around Jon’s thin shoulders and pull him close. It had been _so_ close. If they had been even a few seconds slower... He didn’t like to think about it.

“Let me get this straight,” Tim lifted one eyebrow, his gaze steady as he stared at both Jon and Martin. “You tell me to leave early while the two of you stay late at the Archives and it _just so happens_ that Jane Prentiss attacks the same day?”

“Yes?”

“Really? You expect me to believe that?” Rolling his eyes so hard it was almost audible Tim stood up straighter. He’d been leaning against the wall, Jon and Martin’s small flat not having much in the way of furniture for company.

“It’s... I’m not sure what you want me to say, Tim.” Jon responded, trying to keep his voice casual.

“Look, remember how you wanted us to keep you informed about any ‘sinister happenings’ we might encounter?”

“I recall, yes-”

“Well, it seems too convenient that the day Jane Prentiss shows up it’s just you two in the Archives.” Tim’s voice was accusatory but not hostile. “Jon, you were pretty insistent about me going home, looking back on it... It’s just a strange coincidence, that’s all. It’s like you _knew_ she’d be there or something.”

“Tim... Are you implying that I intentionally put a hole in my office wall just so I could run from Jane Prentiss? Who in their right mind would look for her?”

At that moment Jon’s phone rang in his pocket, he rose to his feet and headed towards the bedroom. “Excuse me for a second.” Martin had glimpsed the screen briefly, it was slightly concerning that Elias was calling again.

“You can’t tell me, Sash, that it’s not the slightest bit suspicious.” Tim continued, despite the fact that Jon wasn’t in the room anymore.

“Look, I’m just glad we weren’t around to deal with it.” Sasha took a sip of tea from where she sat on the floor. “From those statements, not to mention Jon’s description of Prentiss, it must have been awful. It was rather lucky that nobody was hurt, especially considering just how many people she must have killed.”

“Yeah, it was a good thing Elias switched out the fire-suppression system. Who knows what might have happened otherwise?” Martin tried to smile, but the memories of what had happened the first time Prentiss had attacked the Institute still weighed heavily on his mind. Sasha was still herself, nobody had been injured by the worms, and Prentiss was dead. He knew he should be more thankful for how smoothly things had gone but a part of him felt like the whole thing had been... too easy.

Jon entered the room, his lips pursed together in a thin line, eyes dark. “Welcome back boss,” Tim either hadn’t noticed Jon’s expression or didn’t care. “What was that about?”

“They... in the tunnels Jane came from...” Jon ran a hand through his hair in what would have looked like distress to the normal eye. Martin, however, knew that this was but an act. “The crew sent to clean out the tunnels found Gertrude’s body in them.”

There was a moment of silence in which Martin mostly admired how much better Jon had gotten at acting. Finally Sasha broke the silence. “Gertrude’s body? She’s dead then?”

“Yeah...” With a sigh Jon collapsed back onto the sofa, face pale. “The police are coming to investigate.”

“Holy shit.” Tim seemed to have forgotten about how strange the situation with Jane Prentiss had been, his eyes were wide as he stared at Jon.

“That... That’s an appropriate reaction I guess.” Another sigh from Jon. “I... Should I be worried?”

“Kinda?” Martin answered, despite knowing exactly what had happened. It was important to not raise more suspicion, especially when it came to the dead body of Gertrude Robinson. “Did... Did Elias say how she died?”

“She-” Jon took a deep breath, as if to steady himself. “She was shot. Gertrude was murdered.”

* * *

**12th July, 2016**

By mid-July the Institute had finally started to calm down after the body of its previous Archivist had been found in mysterious tunnels, her killer still at large. The police had searched for evidence, gone over the CCTV files in painstaking detail, interviewed everyone they thought might be connected to the crime, but they’d turned up nothing. After months with no further developments it seemed like things were starting to return to normal, or as normal as life could be when working at the Magnus Institute.

It had been strange, meeting Basira and having to be interrogated all over again. Still, Jon couldn’t tell her who’d really killed Gertrude without having to explain just how he knew that. It had been somewhat amusing when she’d told him that he was the one who stood to gain the most from Gertrude dying though.

“Really?” He’d had to work hard to keep a straight face. “When I took over for Gertrude the Archives were a mess, there was no organizational system more than ‘make sure it’s on a shelf.’ It’s been a year and we’ve barely made a dent in the mess she left behind. I have gained nothing but grey hairs and a sleep schedule I don’t think can be fixed.”

When Basira had left with Gertrude’s tapes, Jon might have bumped into her just to send some of the things scattering to the floor. For all her observation skills, she didn’t seem to notice he’d given her more tapes than had actually fallen. Hopefully she’d listen to them by herself.

The mood of the Archives had changed slightly, which wasn’t surprising considering the circumstances, but it did make work a bit more tense. Jon wasn’t entirely sure how he should be acting. On one hand, his predecessor had been murdered; it wasn’t unreasonable for him to be distressed by this information. He just couldn’t let his paranoia reach stalker-levels if he took this route again. On the other hand, he could try to act as though he wasn’t fazed by the new developments, set a good example for his staff and try to help morale in these trying times. In the end, Jon settled for a mix of the two, concern over what he’d learned but attempting to stay professional nonetheless. He could only hope it was enough.

Still, he couldn’t control how other people were reacting to the news. Tim still seemed suspicious of Jon’s behavior, and as nice as it would be to sit everyone down with a presentation on how Jon and Martin had traveled back in time to prevent the world from ending... Elias would definitely notice something was up. It was almost nice that the months following Jane Prentiss’ attack were so calm, with the police investigation being the weirdest thing to happen. Jon bided his time, trying not to do anything that could be interpreted as suspicious behaviour.

“Why don’t you ever take statements from people?” Tim inquired after Dr. Lionel Elliot had left, Jon had asked Sasha to help him, pretending to be busy recording a statement. She’d agreed, but had looked confused by the request.

“I beg your pardon?” Jon hoped that feigning ignorance was the right action.

“You never take statements from people when they come in, you always make one of us do it.” Tim leaned up against the doorframe of Jon’s office, his eyes accusatory.

“Well, I have other things to do. You all are more than capable of taking someone’s statement.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Tim rolled his eyes in exasperation. “It’s like you’re... I dunno... It’s like you’re afraid to take them.”

Jon sighed. Could a bit of the truth hurt? It seemed like Elias was already suspicious of him; he knew Jon was planning something, but was fine with watching how things played out. On the other hand, Tim was Jon’s friend, and if there was a possibility that keeping him ignorant of the true horrors going on could lead to his death... Well, it was a risk Jon would have to take.

Sighing, Jon looked for any tape recorders that might have popped into existence or started recording without his knowledge. There was one, whirring away, so he turned it off before addressing Tim. “Close the door.” There was a moment of silence, as though Tim hadn’t expected Jon to give a straight answer, before he did as he was instructed.

“Look,” Jon sighed, trying to find the best way to explain his behavior without giving away too much information. He leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the desk and clasping his hands in front of him. “You believe in the supernatural, right? I’m guessing you do, considering you work here, but I just figured I’d-”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Look, Tim... There’s something about being the Head Archivist that means... Well, something strange.” Jon sighed, wishing he could explain exactly what was going on, but he couldn’t. Not yet. “I’m not sure what exactly is going on but I have this bad feeling... When I record statements myself it feels like something is watching me. I sort of lose myself in them, and when the recording is done, it’s like waking from a trance. I get the sense that if I were to take statements from people... It would give them nightmares or something.”

Tim laughed. “Wait... You’re serious? I know those statements are weird, but...”

“If you want, you can pretend this is some weird quirk of mine and let me continue as I have been. It doesn’t change much about how we’re doing things, I just... I can’t take people’s statements. Please respect that.” Jon hoped that would be enough of an explanation, that Tim would just think that Jon was finally losing it and leave the matter alone.

They were both silent for several seconds before Tim straightened up and prepared to leave. “Fine, whatever. If you want to think there’s something spooky going on that’s your choice. It’s alright if you don’t take statements, just...” Tim sighed, pausing in the doorway. “Just don’t become some kind of paranoid weirdo who talks about conspiracy stuff,” he called over his shoulder, closing the door behind him as he left.

Jon ran a hand through his hair, massaged his temples, tried to rub away the headache that was forming. That had... well, it could have gone worse. Tim hadn’t pushed the issue, at least. Hopefully now nobody would press him about making statements from now on.

* * *

**2nd October, 2016**

There was a sort of nervous energy surrounding Jon today, his fingers tapping the sides of the mug he held as though he were trying to say something in morse code. Martin was aware of the reason Jon was so anxious: today was the day Helen Richardson was due to visit the Institute. He and Jon had discussed what needed to happen today at great length, but that didn’t mean it was any easier. The hardest thing for Jon to accept was that he couldn’t save Helen. He’d been battling with his feelings on that ever since he’d gone back in time, and Martin knew that it hurt him to not be able to save everyone.

Martin reached out one hand and took the mug away from Jon, noticing it was empty as he set it on his desk. “Breathe. You’re making me nervous.” Both Tim and Sasha were on break, by some lucky coincidence, so there was nobody around to see this moment of intimacy, or to overhear them talking.

“I know... It’s just...” Jon closed his eyes, inhaling deeply as he clearly tried to calm down.

“You don’t have to explain it, I understand how you’re feeling.” Martin reached out to hold Jon’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze of reassurance.

“I feel bad. I wish there was more I could do.”

“You do enough already, don’t beat yourself up over things that haven’t happened yet.”

“I just wish-” Jon started again, but Martin cut him off.

“Stop, just stop. Fretting won’t help anything. Just make it through the next hour. You don’t have to talk with her much, just greet her, comfort her for a bit. I’ll make some tea and take over from there, alright?” Martin smiled, trying to be the anchor that Jon needed right now, when he was overwhelmed in a sea of emotions.

“Right, thank you.” Jon returned the smile with a smaller, shakier one of his own, but he was trying.

There was a creak of a door opening, and the two of them turned to see a woman entering the Archives. As if they’d rehearsed it Martin stood up and walked to the break room, Jon going over to the stairs to greet the newcomer. They could do this.

It was easy to make tea, an action that was practically muscle memory by this point. Martin did worry about Jon a little bit, he wasn’t _great_ at conversations, but he could be trusted to do things to the best of his abilities. When Martin got back to where Jon and Helen were, it looked like she’d calmed down somewhat. Jon had led her over to one of the empty desks and was speaking to hear in a quiet, soothing voice as she scribbled something on a piece of paper.

“It doesn’t make sense, I kept going straight but...” She muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

“I brought tea.” Martin tried to give Helen a reassuring smile, he hoped that was how she saw it. As it was, she jumped slightly, not having realized he was there, but she accepted the mug without a word.

“Ah, thank you Martin.” Jon gestured to Helen. “This is-”

“Helen Richardson, I came to make a statement.”

“I’m Martin Blackwood Is there anything else I can get for you?” Martin held out a hand, trying to be as friendly as possible. One of the reasons Helen had been so helpful to them in the past timeline was because Jon had been kind to her. If they couldn’t prevent her from being taken by the Spiral, the least they could do for her was make her time at the Institute nice.

“N-no. I was just telling this man here how what happened just doesn’t make sense.” Helen still looked shaken, but that was understandable. Martin had been inside the distortion’s corridors, they were disconcerting and he doubted that anyone could go through them without being affected. “I tried drawing a map, but... there are no left turns and it shouldn’t have been possible.”

“Right. I can take your statement for you; Jon, do you have a recorder?” In response Jon gestured to the table, where a tape recorder lay ready to use. He got to his feet, letting Martin sit down in the chair he’d just vacated.

“You aren’t staying?” Helen looked confused.

“Oh, um... No.” Jon gave a weak smile. “Sadly, as Head Archivist, my job keeps me rather busy. I will try to break away from my work if the opportunity presents itself. In the meantime, Martin is more than capable of taking your statement for you, and if you need me for anything I’ll be in my office.”

“Shall we begin?” Martin turned the recorder, the crackling of the tape so familiar to him by now. He cleared his throat, glancing at the notes Jon had left him. Despite the brave face he’d given Jon he also felt bad about letting the Spiral have Helen. Martin hadn’t actually talked with her much in the last timeline so he didn’t really know what she’d been like pre-distortion. Talking to her now he had misgivings, was he any better than Gertrude for sacrificing someone to an Entity just because he thought it would save the world?

“Statement of Helen Richardson, regarding a new door in the house she was selling. Statement recorded direct from subject, 2nd October, 2016. Statement begins.”


	11. 11th February, 2017 - 16th February, 2017

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a long chapter today. Thanks to Ostentenacity for the beta! You are truly a saint.

**11th February, 2017**

It wasn’t much of a surprise when Basira called; Jon had finally made a calendar to keep track of what had happened in the original timeline so he could have a general idea of when certain events might happen again. Still, if Basira was calling, it most likely meant that Elias had tipped off the police about Maxwell Rayner’s location, which Jon wasn’t sure he would do this time around. Still, it wouldn’t do to ignore the call, especially not when he knew just what was going on.

“So,” Basira’s voice was calm enough, but there was a faint note of uncertainty that she seemed keen to hide. “Maxwell Rayner.”

“I’ve told you all I can, I’m afraid.” Jon replied, wishing he could do more to help her. “Torches, don’t get split up, don’t let anyone touch the liquid. I’m sure you’ll be able to rescue Callum.”

“I know... It’s just...”

“You could always ask Daisy to come with you.” Certainly it wouldn’t hurt to have her, and not just as an extra pair of hands.

“No, she’s off on another case. I can do this again.” Basira replied, more assuredly.

“Yes you can. If you need to talk afterwards, well... You can give me the gist so long as it isn’t a statement.” That would work, right? So long as it was a story and not a statement?

“Thanks, I think?”

“Comforting words were never my strong suit. Martin says I need to practice talking with friends.” Jon frowned, he thought they were friends at least. He’d never really gotten the hang of the whole “having friends” thing. He didn’t have many friends growing up, something Georgie used to tease him about when they were in uni. He'd at least made an effort in this timeline, the trivia nights were helping, but conversations were a different story. 

“I'm not all that surprised.” Basira seemed to sigh into the phone. “I’ll see if I can grab Daisy and we’ll go for drinks again. You can bring Martin.”

“Sounds like a plan. You have to survive today if you want me to treat you to drinks later.” It was probably a bad idea, but if it helped Basira calm down...

“Oh, you’re paying? Guess I’ll have to make it, then. I’ll let Daisy know.” There was now a note of amusement to Basira’s voice. “I have to go, I’ll let you know about drinks after.”

“Just don’t underestimate Rayner. Things have been going differently this time around, you never know wow things will change. Be careful, alright?” Just how much things had changed this time around was worrisome, but Jon tried not to sound too concerned.

“This isn’t my first Avatar hunt, I know what I’m getting myself into.”

“Yes, I’m aware. I’m just concerned, that’s all. I am-”

“Jon. I have to go. Talk to you later.” Basira hung up and Jon sank into his chair, still not entirely sure what was happening. At the end of November, Daisy had called him out of the blue. Which was unnerving, because in this timeline they had barely spoken.

“What’s happening?” She’d demanded, practically snarling through the phone.

“Detective Tonner, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Jon had responded, trying to sound as calm as possible since he had no idea what she was talking about. He wasn’t even sure how she’d gotten his number.

“Don’t play dumb. Why are we in the past again? I woke up this morning and got a call from the chief about not showing up at work when I know for a fact that I haven’t gone to work for a very long time.” Her tone had calmed down somewhat, but there was still a bite to her words. Jon couldn’t blame her for being frustrated; one of his regrets in the other timeline was that he hadn’t been able to save Daisy. When he’d found her, she was so lost to the Hunt that his words couldn’t reach her, she’d been tearing through hellscapes and following the scent of blood. Not even Basira had been able to help. Going from that to this changed past must have been a terrible shock.

“Wait, you came back too?” It had been hard to keep the surprise out of his voice.

“What’s _happening_ , Jon?”

“I was sent back in time to prevent the world from ending—do you remember Helen at all?” Jon wasn’t sure if the two had ever met.

“Of course I know who she is. What does she have to do with anything?” Daisy asked, her voice razor-sharp.

“She sent me back to this timeline in order to stop Elias from completing his ritual. Martin joined me half a year later, but if you’re here now I guess she thinks you can help?”

“Great. I’m stuck in the past and have to do everything I’ve already done again?”

“Pretty much, but you get to stop the world from ending again.”

“Can I hurt Elias?” It was somewhat unnerving how Jon could tell she was grinning as she spoke.

“Maybe, haven’t worked that part out yet.”

“I’m in.”

* * *

**12th February, 2017**

“So, did anything strange happen?” Jon asked the next day. He and Martin had met Daisy and Basira in a pub, and he was starting to regret his offer to cover the bill, as Daisy had no problem throwing back a beer and ordering another one.

“I was able to save Altman this time—you remember he was another one of the sectioned officers? I warned everyone to stay away from Rayner and Callum, to not let any of that dark liquid coming out of Rayner touch anyone. We were able to take him down from a distance, and since I’d been ready for people to attack, once the lights went on, I was able to spot Natalie and prevent her from hurting anyone.”

“That’s good to hear.” Martin smiled, causing Jon’s chest to tighten.

“I’ll stay on the force for now. It’s pretty awful dealing with all the section 31 stuff, but now that I know what’s going on I feel like it’s the right choice to make. Besides, if I stay with the force I can’t be made a hostage again, can I?”

“Are you sure? You said last time that you were done with them,” Jon asked, somewhat concerned.

“Yeah, but it feels like after I quit things just got weirder and weirder. I mean the whole world ended, and I survived that. I think I can tolerate some stupid cases if it means there’s a possibility for helping people affected by the Entities.” Basira sighed, running a finger around the rim of her glass. “You said it yourself, there’s not much we can do now, so I might as well help people if I can. That’s my job, right?”

“We’re all in the same boat, aren’t we?” Jon chuckled dryly.

Daisy raised her beer and laughed, her cheeks were red but her gaze was steady. “To doing the best we can!” Everyone else raised their glasses in a toast.

“To stopping Elias,” Jon muttered, and although he’d tried to be quiet, it seemed like the others had heard him.

“Speaking of Elias.” Basira took a sip of her water. “I did get the tape you slipped in with the rest of Gertrude’s, the one of him killing her. What do you want me to do there?”

“Nothing for now. It’s in police custody, so I don’t think we need to make any moves unless we have to,” Jon responded, sipping his own drink. He hoped that Elias was busy looking elsewhere, as this meeting would be a bit odd from his perspective. Two potential suspects for an unsolved murder case getting drinks with several of the officers investigating the case.

“How _did_ you get that tape, though? It was left for us before, so someone else had to have it.” Basira asked.

“It was left for me again, and since it was covered in cobwebs I’m pretty sure I know who put it there. Not sure why Annabelle is helping me, but the tape is useful so I’ll accept it.”

“Do you need us to do anything yet?” Daisy joined in. Despite how frustrated she’d sounded on the phone she seemed very excited to see both Jon and Martin again.

“I don’t think so, not unless Elias decides to kill Leitner again. I don’t see that happening, though.” The drink Daisy had bought Jon was too strong; it burned his throat on the way down. “Just don’t start working for the Institute again.”

“I don’t plan on it, but thanks for the tip anyway.” Basira chuckled.

“It is very possible we will need Elias arrested again, if only to make sure we know where he is. He is definitely able to get out of prison, either through connections or blackmail, but maybe he’ll stay there. I’m not sure though, if he knows I’m actively trying to thwart him...” Jon took a deep breath, once again wondering if it was possible to stop Elias.

“Breathe.” Martin wrapped an arm around Jon’s shoulders and pulled him closer. “Look at me, Jon. There’s four of us now, four people with memories of a future we want to avoid. We can work together to prevent Elias from winning.”

“I hope you’re right,” Jon had murmured, leaning up against Martin. The rest of the night had gone well, with everyone recounting what had changed for them this time around. It had been quite nice, and hanging out with Basira and Daisy had been added to the list of things that encouraged him to stop Elias. He had allies, he wasn’t working by himself anymore.

* * *

**14th February, 2017**

Jon also wasn’t surprised to see Melanie when she entered the Archives. He’d been talking to Martin at his desk and noticed the door open. He’d been expecting her to arrive yesterday, but at least she’d turned up. When she’d first come to the Institute to give her statement last April, he’d tried to be politer than he’d been in the previous timeline. He now knew what she saw was real, especially after meeting the same Sarah Baldwin she’d talked about. He couldn’t tell her this, though, so he settled for not dismissing her claims and asking Sasha to take her statement.

“You believe me, then?” Melanie had asked, her eyes wide after the recording had finished. She’d explained a bit of what had happened to her before Sasha had arrived, and she seemed surprised that he hadn’t dismissed her.

“The unexplainable and strange is what the Institute is here for,” Jon had replied, bringing out a piece of paper from his pocket. “I knew the name ‘Sarah Baldwin’ sounded familiar so I looked into it. When we were doing research into someone else’s statement, the name came up.”

“Oh? I’m not surprised someone else had a problem with her.”

“That’s not it. She was reported missing in August of 2006, and she’s still a missing person.”

There was a moment of silence in which Melanie just stared at him, brows furrowed and mouth slightly open. “But I saw her!” she exclaimed, throwing up her hands.

“I know, and since you said that Georgie was the one to recommend her to you, I believe that it was Sarah Baldwin you met. I just don’t have an explanation for how she suddenly turned up after being missing for ten years.” Jon sighed. He did have an explanation, it just wasn’t one he could tell her. She also probably wouldn’t believe him if he tried to describe just what the Anglerfish was.

“What was this... this other statement about? The one you found her name by researching?”

“We were looking into a series of disappearances in regards to a statement. She was one of six people who vanished over the course of five years, all of them happened around where the statement took place.”

“What does that mean?”

“I have no idea. I just knew I’d seen her name around, so I looked into it. Judging from what you witnessed, I’d say she’s involved in something dangerous. We will look into your statement more, but I’d recommend not doing any further investigation yourself.” Jon knew what was coming even as he spoke the words.

“Why not?” Melanie demanded, eyes narrowing angrily.

“Because it could be dangerous.” He’d replied, and Melanie had waved off his warning and left the Institute. Jon really wasn’t surprised to see her again.

“Georgie says hello,” he said in lieu of a proper greeting.

“You’ve talked with her?” Melanie asked, eyebrows rising in surprise.

“We’ve been doing trivia nights every so often,” he responded, returning his attention to Martin, whose curls were looking particularly fluffy this morning. “I mentioned that you’d come to give a statement, and she had me pass on the message.”

“That’s... kind of odd, but I’ll let it go.”

“I’m guessing you didn’t take my advice?”

“I didn’t look into Sarah Baldwin, so yes, I technically did take it.” Melanie rolled her eyes and glanced around as though looking for a place to sit. Jon pointed at a vacant table a little ways away and she grabbed a chair and pulled it over.

“What did you do?” Jon asked exasperatedly, leaning up against the desk as Martin, Tim, and Sasha watched their interaction.

“Well, I kept thinking about the thing that attacked me. You know that I can’t explain just what Sarah was, but I know a ghost when I see one.”

“So you did some digging.”

“Yeah.” Melanie nodded, seemingly happy that Jon wasn’t discrediting her experience.

“Was that why you came by a few months ago? To research whatever you think attacked you?”

“Yeah, research and statements are the only reason to visit this place.” Melanie scoffed. “Speaking of- Did you want me to give a statement?”

“Oh! Oh right, you should do that.”

“Did you just forget how to do your job, boss?” Tim asked, grinning at Jon from over his computer monitor.

“Thank you for volunteering to take Ms. King’s statement, I’ll be in my office.” There was a sputtered sound of protest followed by Sasha offering to help Melanie since she’d been the one to take her first statement.

Jon returned to his office and closed the door behind him. He’d still have to talk Melanie out of going to India somehow, but he wasn’t sure how to do that, if he simply offered advice she could ignore it. If he was too insistent she might go anyway just to spite him. She might not have a bullet infecting her with thoughts of violence, but she’d already admitted that she’d been an angry person for years, that the bullet merely justified the anger she’d always had. He still wanted to prevent her from being shot, which meant she couldn’t go to India.

Sasha knocked on his door half an hour later, letting him know the recording had gone smoothly before walking away. Melanie looked pleased with herself as she let herself into the office and shut the door behind her. “Did you find anything, then?”

“About your statement?”

“Yeah, you found something last time so I figured I’d ask.”

“Wasn’t your last visit to do research on what happened? You had me put in a word so you could use the library.” Jon had no other answers he could give, none that she would believe anyway. Trying to explain the Slaughter and what it could do was out of the question.

“Yeah, but you seem to know things. Like how you knew about me meeting Sarah last time despite the fact I never told you her name.”

“I heard you talking to Sasha and recognized the name.” Jon felt his heart rate start to rise, had he really made such a stupid mistake?

“No, you were in your office the whole time, and yet you not only knew my statement had to do with her, you just happened to have information about her. That’s just weird, isn’t it?” Melanie gave Jon a knowing look, raising one eyebrow and smiling. “Besides, you were very insistent that I not look into Sarah, despite all the information you gave me about her. It doesn’t line up.”

“Alright, so if I do ‘know’ things, as you claim, why are you here?”

“To make a statement, and I did.”

“So now you’re going to do something dangerous, and you left your statement here just in case you don’t come back.” Jon sighed, annoyed by the lack of control he had over the situation. “Alright, I do know things, it’s got something to do with being the Archivist, with working here, are you happy now?”

“Not really, you confirmed a suspicion is all.”

“Don’t go to India, Melanie.” It was an effort to keep his voice steady, to not compel her against her will. He’d accidentally compelled Martin the other day—it hadn’t been anything major but it had still rattled him. Jon didn’t want to control people. “Something bad will happen to you if you go, please... Please believe me about this.”

“That’s freaky, just what else do you know?” Melanie’s face had gone pale, her brows knit together as she stared at Jon.

“Enough that I am willing to plead with you if it means you won’t go. Find something new to research, some other war ghost, but you can’t go to India.”

“Why? Why is it so important I don’t go? What happens if I go.”

“I don’t know that far, I just know that if you go it will horribly affect the rest of your life.” What could Jon tell her? He didn’t have a chance to answer before she responded.

“Fine, whatever, I won’t go. Not if you’re going to keep being so weird about it.” Melanie scoffed, turning on her heel and leaving Jon if she’d keep her word. He’d done all he could though, it was up to her if she took his advice.

* * *

**16th February, 2017**

Jon curled up on the sofa, not really paying attention to whatever show Martin was watching. It had been a long day and he was tired. Despite the fact that Jon was trying not to rely on the Beholding it still fed from him, more and more each day. It was taking more statements to satisfy him, and although he knew that if he took statements directly from people it would be more filling, he couldn’t risk it. He refused to do anything that might allow the Archivist, that horrible monster that still lurked in his mind, to grow stronger. Martin seemed to notice his exhaustion, and pulled him closer, wrapping an arm around Jon’s shoulders.

“You ok?” Martin asked, his voice gentle.

“Just tired, not looking forward to tomorrow,” Jon mumbled, resting his head on Martin’s chest.

“Do you know what today is?” Jon felt a lot more awake all of the sudden, panicking about if he’d forgotten someone’s birthday or some other important date. Their new anniversary wasn’t until next month... What had he forgotten about?

“No?” Jon hated to admit that he didn’t know something, especially since he’d at one point known practically everything.

“Happy Not-being-accused-of-murder Day.” Martin grinned, and Jon felt his cheeks flush.

“That’s not a holiday.”

“You’re not happy to avoid being accused of murder?”

“I am, you just made me panic, that’s all. I thought I’d forgotten something big.” Jon huffed, snuggling closer to Martin.

“At least we’re together today, and you’re not on the run. I missed you while you were gone.”

“You didn’t think I’d done it?” Jon couldn’t help but ask.

“Me? No, I was one of the only people who didn’t think you’d killed Leitner.” Martin placed a kiss to the top of Jon’s head. “I did miss you while you were gone.”

“I missed you too, I’m glad we’re together now.”

“It does make me realize just how much we _have_ been able to change this time around.” Martin sighed and started playing with Jon’s hair again. “Sasha’s still alive, Leitner too. Jane Prentiss was taken care of without anyone getting hurt. We’re now going out for drinks with Daisy and Basira, we do trivia with Georgie, Tim, and Sasha. Apart from the whole ‘stopping Elias from ending the world’ thing, life is good.”

“Happy Not-being-accused-of-murder Day, Martin.” Jon couldn’t help but laugh at how strange their lives had become for them to celebrate such a thing.

“Happy Not-being-accused-of-murder Day, Jon.” Martin grinned. “Let’s celebrate again next year.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, this started as me just adding more details to the previous chapter because there was a bit too much of a time gap between the end of chapter 10 and where chapter 12 starts so I figured I needed to add more. My notes were basically "add Basira raid," "add converstion with Melanie," "fack it, this is a whole chapter now, add celebrating Jon not being arrested." Now this has become longer than any other chapter I've written. Lotsa stuff going on. Hopefully it wasn't too confusing. 
> 
> Also, I finally finished chapter 15! That chapter didn't want to be written. Hopefully I can proceed without much trouble.


	12. 1st May, 2017 - 1st June, 2017

#### 1st May, 2017

Lights danced before Jon’s eyes as he regained consciousness. His head spun, and a painful lump was forming above his brow. He tried to lift a hand to inspect the welt only to find his hands were bound to a chair. A cloth was being pulled over his mouth by clumsy fingers that kept fumbling with the knot. He jerked his head forward, the gag fell away and it was simple for Jon to bark out a command. _“Get away from me!”_

Whoever was behind him took several steps back, but their footsteps were joined by the sounds of several others as the room came into focus. “Hello, Nikola.” He glanced up at his captors, despite having no memory of being knocked out he knew who they were. 

“Oh! You are a clever Archivist, aren’t you? We didn’t even have time to blindfold you.” Her high pitched voice was all too uncomfortably familiar, as was her appearance. A mannequin, like the kind seen in any shop’s display, dressed in a gaudy ringmaster’s costume. There was a faint crack on her plastic forehead that the bright red top hat didn’t cover, makeup that had started to flake away running down her cheeks. She was... unnatural, and it sent shivers down his spine. Jon still wasn’t sure when Breekon and Hope had managed to kidnap him, to catch him unawares, but he knew that Martin would be far more worried.

Poor Martin. He had to know what had happened, but he wouldn’t dare do anything that might draw the attention of Elias or the Stranger. Still, Jon wished there was some way to contact him, to let Martin know that he was still alive.

“It’s in the job, isn’t it?” Jon tried to sound confident despite the ropes cutting into his wrists. “To know things.”

“I suppose so, still...” Nikola placed one plastic fingertip to her red mouth. “That is why you’re here, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re acting rather erratically, Archivist. We thought Gertrude was a threat, with how many rituals she stopped and how many people she killed, but you’re something entirely new.” Like everything else about her, Nikola’s voice sounded wrong. It had a tinny, whistling sound to it, like the voicebox was malfunctioning. “You scare them. The others who, like myself, have goals of changing the world. Who dream of serving the powers that sustain us in great ways.” 

“So, what? Why bring me here? Do you want to kill me?” Jon didn’t have the patience for Nikola’s nonsense, he didn’t want to deal with the Unknowing like he had before. 

“Not if we don’t have to. We were content to watch for a while, to see what you would do next, but we’re growing worried. There were times when we thought it would be best to get rid of you, but you always seemed protected. Either you were in your little Institute or you had your guard up. It took so long to even catch you unaware so we could get you here.”

“Now that I’m here, what do you want from me?”

“Is your ‘master’ listening?” 

Jon tried to shrug, but it was hard with his hands still bound. “You didn’t check me for recorders when you kidnapped me?”

“We found one, but there could still be more.” 

“I can’t remember exactly what happened when you sent your men to kidnap me, but I usually only have one on me at a time. So, barring any miraculous appearances of tape recorders, that should be it.”

“Good.” Nikola stepped on the recorder with a crunch of plastic on plastic before throwing it into a far corner of the room. “As much as I respect... Is he going by Elias now?”

“Yes.”

“As much as I respect Elias, I try to stay out of the way of other Avatars. But I do know he holds you, dear Archivist, in _such_ high esteem. I wouldn’t want him catching wind of our conversation.”

She had no trouble letting him hear her last time— what changed? Jon tried to keep from grimacing, tried not to let his frustration show on his face. “What do you want, Nikola?”

“You are a threat, Archivist. It is unknown whether your goal is to stop all the rituals or to help with your master’s.”

“I have no intention of interfering with the Unknowing, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Jon wanted Nikola to unbind his wrists, as he was starting to lose feeling in his fingers. “I refuse to help Elias with the Watcher’s Crown, either.”

“So what are you, Archivist? You serve the Eye, yet you do not do its bidding?” 

“I never willingly served the Eye, I didn’t have a choice in becoming the Archivist...” He sighed. “I have my own goals.”

“An Archivist who serves no one? Ridiculous. You have a Patron, and you must serve it.” Nikola made a noise that might have been laughter, a clipped, garbled sound that grated on Jon’s ears.

“All rituals are doomed to fail regardless of my interference. Why would I risk my neck to stop something that won’t work?”

“The Unknowing will work, we just need the right skin.” Nikola ran a plastic finger along Jon’s cheek, making his skin itch where she touched it. “You haven-”

“I know, I haven’t been taking good care of my skin. You’ve said this before, can we move on to the next part of the conversation?”

“Before? What could you possibly mean?” Nikola’s voice had risen an octave in surprise. Jon cursed himself, in his frustration he’d let his temper get the best of him. He had let slip potentially dangerous information.

“You... sounded like someone else. It doesn’t matter. My skin is dry and you don’t like it. Can we move on?” Sighing deeply, Jon didn’t bother to let Nikola reply. He had to change the topic fast. “The Unknowing _will_ fail. You don’t find it strange that in all this time there have been no successful attempts? Even the Dark’s ritual a few years back, the one with the Black Star in Ny-Ålesund, failed, despite the fact Gertrude made no attempts to stop it.”

“The Unknowing is special. It will succeed.” Nikola sounded angry, and although her plastic face could not change its expression, her body reflected how tense she was.

“No, it won’t.” Jon replied calmly. “I said it before. I Know things, it’s part of the job. So, I see no reason to stop the Unknowing unless you force my hand. I have bigger things to worry about.” 

“What are you planning, Archivist? What is your goal?” She was practically snarling now, her jointed fingers folding into fists.

“I don’t want the world to end. I will do whatever I can to prevent that.”

* * *

#### 31st May, 2017

It felt like weeks had passed, weeks in which he'd been held hostage by a deranged mannequin and her cronies for the second time. Jon had decided to be silent after the first week, they’d already gotten as much information out of him as he was willing to give. Despite the fact they’d given him food he had not been able to consume any statements. The Beholding was screaming for knowledge, and every time he opened his mouth to speak he came closer and closer to compelling any one of the _things_ surrounding him into spilling their life story. He’d already gotten Breekon’s statement in the other timeline, so he doubted it would do any good to hear his or Hope’s again. He was _starving_ though, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could maintain control over the monster inside him. 

“Now, now, Archivist.” Nikola laughed again, the sound hurting Jon’s ears. “You’ll have to talk eventually, or we might just kill you.”

 _Then kill me._ Jon wanted to say. _Try to kill me, and we’ll see who the worst monster in the room is._ He dared not speak the words aloud, though; it was taking all his effort to keep that thing he called the Archivist contained. He imagined that he’d trapped it in a cage, but with every day that passed the chains that held it grew weaker and weaker. His head throbbed with every beat of his heart. 

“You’re growing weak, aren’t you? I can see it in your eyes, you haven’t much time left.” Another not-laugh. “You claim you do not serve the Eye? It seems to be feeding off you regardless.”

 _Shut up. Shut your stupid plastic mouth._ Not for the first time he wished they had actually gagged him, prevented him from speaking at all. They wanted him to talk, though. They wanted to learn just what he was planning, but he wouldn’t tell them. 

“You said you don’t want the world to end? What if you are the one to end it by losing control?”

_That’s already happened. I won’t let it happen again._

“If death doesn’t scare you, we have other ways of making you talk. Who’s that human you seem so fond of? What was his name again?” Nikola must have known she was hitting on a sore subject from how labored Jon’s breathing had become, but she pressed on. “Was it... Martin?”

 _"Don’t touch him!”_ The words came out as a strangled cry. Jon hadn’t meant to say anything, but threatening Martin was unforgivable. Instantly he felt his control start to wane and he struggled to calm his breathing, to fight against the monster that so desperately wanted to break free.

“So you _can_ speak! Wonderful! I knew you could do it. So now you can tell us what you’re planning.”

Pressing his lips together tightly Jon glared up at Nikola, he’d actually started biting his tongue in an attempt to keep from saying anything. The coppery taste of blood filled his mouth. 

“Fine,” Nikola sighed, crossing her plastic arms in front of her. “I’ll let you be for now, but I do hope you will be more... cooperative soon.” She left, Breekon and Hope trailing off after her with that horrible coffin containing the Buried.

Finally, finally, Jon was alone. He didn’t have to worry as much about not speaking, but in his head the Archivist still struggled to break free. He didn’t have much time to relax, only a few minutes passed before a door appeared in the wall opposite him. A horrifyingly familiar, yellow door. With a horrifyingly familiar, blond-haired creature that emerged from it.

 _Hello Michael,_ Jon wanted to say. _Here to kill me?_

“Is that what you want, Archivist?” Michael grinned, its teeth still far too sharp for Jon’s liking. The door it had emerged from was now gone. “You desire for me to kill you?” 

_I don’t know why I’m surprised you can hear me._ It was an effort for Jon not to roll his eyes. _What do you want, Michael?_

“I am, in fact, here to kill you. You’re dangerous, Archivist. You know this. I let you live before but that cannot continue.”

_Why do you Avatars all think that? What did I do?_

“You act in a manner we cannot predict, with a goal we do not understand. How are we to understand your motivations?” Michael raised a too-long finger to its lips in thought. “When confronted with that which cannot be reasoned with, is it not the nature of things to eliminate the threat?”

_Fine. Kill me._

“If you insist.” The yellow door appeared again, just as the ropes binding Jon’s wrists fell away. He got to his feet unsteadily, so weak from hunger. “Open the door.”

Taking a deep breath, praying he was right about what was going to happen next, Jon turned the handle... Nothing happened, the door was locked, and it was an effort to suppress his smile. _I can’t._

The look of confusion on Michael's face might have been funny if it wasn’t for the pain in his head. The scream that followed definitely didn’t help, but it faded and a cool, female voice spoke to him. 

“You kept your promise.” Helen Richardson, the woman Jon had let the Distortion take. She stood before him, looking much the same as she had when he’d last seen her in that other life. Same suit that couldn’t seem to decide what color it was, same too-wide smile, same unnaturally-large hands. “The memory is faint, but looking at you now, you promised to let me become Helen again, in another reality.”

 _I did, and I appreciate you not killing me._ Jon still couldn’t bring himself to speak. Helen’s appearance had made the Archivist’s attempts to seize control even worse. He was on the verge of blacking out.

“Oh my. It seems like I’m not the only one close to losing myself.” She pressed a long finger to his forehead and the pain went away. The monster in his head didn’t exactly vanish, but their presence was fainter. “That should help for now, confuse it until you can feed the Eye.”

“What-” Jon struggled to get the words out, his head felt fuzzy. “What did you do?”

“Trapped it in a maze. But you were dangerously close to giving it control of your body. I’ve never seen an Avatar maintain their identity like you have. Most give in to the power their patron offers.”

“I do not serve the Eye. Not willingly, anyway.”

“How boring.” The sound of footsteps echoed outside the room, someone was coming to check on Jon. Helen gestured to the open door. “Come now, if you want to get out of here.”

Jon still didn’t trust Helen entirely, she was an Avatar of an Entity referred to as “it is lies,” but she’d helped him in the past and she was his only way out of the awful wax museum. “Thank you, Helen. For helping me.” 

“I’m only helping you get out of here because she liked you, you and that other one. The one who made such nice tea and took her statement.” 

“Martin?” The thought of seeing him again made Jon smile. “I rather like him too.” He stepped into the Distortion, hoping it would lead him home.

* * *

#### 1st June, 2017

Jon had officially been missing for a month, and unlike last time Martin was pretty sure where he was and who had taken him. Jon had mentioned that Nikola might kidnap him again, but knowing that something might happen and actually having your partner go missing... well those were two different things entirely. It was all Martin could do to stop worrying and focus on his job. Jon had asked him to not go after Nikola if anything happened, someone needed to keep an eye on the Institute, to make sure nobody else got suspicious with Jon being gone. 

Martin’s flat felt too big for one person now, despite the fact he’d lived here for years before having Jon move in with him. It was just, after living with someone for a year it felt strange to have the space all to himself once more. It was hard to fight the chill that the Lonely could offer him, the urge to sink into that fog and stop feeling altogether. Martin reminded himself that Jon would return, that they’d have a future together once they stopped Elias. He could put up with the flat being empty for now.

Tim was getting suspicious about the fact that Jon hadn’t shown up at work for an entire month, Martin’s excuse of “he’s sick” hadn’t done much to convince anyone. It was clear that Sasha was also concerned about Jon’s absence, but she was kind enough to not ask any questions. 

When a tape recorder appeared on the coffee table, whirring away, it was all he could do to keep from crying in relief. “Oh thank god.” He leapt up from the sofa, grabbing the recorder and looking around with wild eyes. A noise sounded from their bedroom and Martin ran towards it, his heart pounding in his chest. Throwing open the door he was just in time to see Jon emerge from a familiar yellow door, take one step out of it, and collapse on the floor. Helen stood in the open doorway, she gave Martin a long-fingered wave before the door shut and vanished. 

_He’s lost weight._ Martin noticed after lifting Jon into his arms. His cheekbones were more pronounced, his jumper hanging more loosely on him, and although his skin was pale it seemed to be in better condition than when he’d left. Nikola _had_ taken him then. 

“Jon!” Martin tried his best to hold the tears back, but the first time this scenario had happened he hadn’t even known that Jon had been kidnapped. Now he felt as though he knew too much, about the circus, about Nikola, about the Stranger... He was aware of just what Jon might have been going through. 

“Martin?” Jon’s voice was weak, his gaze unfocused as he stared into Martin’s eyes. “Hey... Are you crying?”

It seemed like despite his best efforts a few tears had managed to slide down Martin’s cheeks, dampening his shirt’s collar. “You’ve been gone a month, did you expect me to not miss you?”

“A month? Wow... It’s really been that long?”

“Yeah, it’s the first of June.” Martin sniffed, wiping his eyes on a sleeve. “Do you need anything? You look like you’re going to pass out.”

“I haven’t really eaten...” Jon coughed, looking somewhat embarrassed. “They gave me food but... I could use a statement.”

“Right, got it. I should have some for you, somewhere. I can make you some tea while you read one?”

“That’d be great, thanks.” The smile Jon gave was weak but Martin savored it nonetheless. He practically carried Jon over to the sofa, placing the recorder back on the coffee table before looking around for some statements. He knew they always kept a few around somewhere, it was just a matter of finding them. 

A folder had fallen off the kitchen table and gotten wedged between it and the wall, grabbing it and a blanket Martin returned to where Jon sat on the sofa. He looked so small, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped in front of his face. Jon accepted both the folder and the blanket with little more than a smile and a murmur of thanks, eyes focusing on the statement with a little _too_ much interest than was normal. 

Returning to the kitchen, Martin tried to focus all his attention on making tea and a sandwich. They were tasks that were so routine to him he’d thought he could do them in his sleep, but the sound of Jon’s voice drifting to him from the living room was distracting. He’d started off weak, pausing to catch his breath every other sentence, but as he continued reading his voice became stronger. When he’d finished Martin came back with the food, pressing the mug of tea into Jon’s hand and placing a kiss on his cheek.

“You have to eat normal food too, alright?”

Jon stared at him for a second before taking a sip. “When is the last time you ate?”

Martin hadn’t thought about it, he’d been too worried about Jon to really pay attention to his own needs. He hadn’t noticed if his own clothes were hanging more loosely on him, but it was possible. When he was unable to answer Jon only nodded, as though it was confirmation enough. “That’s what I thought.” He pushed the plate forward on the coffee table. “You probably need it more than I do.”

“Jon...”

“Don’t you ‘Jon’ me. I know I look terrible, but just like you worry about me, I worry about you.” Taking another sip of tea Jon looked pointedly at Martin.

“You’ve just escaped being held captive by an evil mannequin!” Martin couldn’t help but exclaim. 

“Let’s compromise. We each eat half.”

For a second it looked like Martin was trying to come up with some reason for not agreeing, but after a moment his shoulders slumped and he nodded. “Fine, but if you’re still hungry I’m making you another sandwich.”

“Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much thanks to my beta, Ostentenacity. There' s a lot of italics in here. 
> 
> At this point in time the story is around 85% written, which feels weird. 43k words, which is amazing because when I started I expected it to be around 30k. Thank you, everyone who has given kudos, commented, bookmarked, or subscribed. I never expected this kind of reception for my first fanfiction of this series. I hope you'll stick around til the end.
> 
> Also I started listening to the Mechs sometime last week and I haven't been able to stop. Someone help me.
> 
> Oh! Oh! I also made a [tumblr](http://artificialdaydreamer.tumblr.com) for tma stuff, I'll probably forget I have it but if you wanna ask me stuff feel free!


	13. 2nd June, 2017

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for Elias being a terrible person, minor panic attack, and disturbing revelations.
> 
> Also, this was written with the assumption that people have listened to MAG161, there isn't a whole lot but there's a bit that might not make sense if you haven't heard it.

####  **2nd June, 2017**

Jon didn’t need to have to have Beholding powers in order to sense the ill intent radiating from Elias the moment they were alone in the office. The threat of violence came off of him in waves, and Jon knew that Elias was not above murder in order to get rid of anyone he thought might impede his plans. 

Elias approached him practically the second he’d gotten to work; he had been talking to Rosie at the front desk when Jon and Martin arrived. His eyes had narrowed slightly, possibly taking in Jon’s appearance, the weight he’d lost and the new grey hairs. Elias’ voice when he addressed them, however, was as calm and matter-of-fact as it always was.

They’d made polite greetings before Elias mentioned that Jon should see him in his office— after he got settled in, of course. Despite the fact it was phrased as though it were a request neither Jon nor Martin believed there was any choice in the matter. Now they stood across from each other, a desk and some chairs the only things between them. 

“Take a seat, Jon.” Elias motioned to one of the leather armchairs that sat before his desk and Jon complied, the material feeling wrong after hearing so much discussion about skins over the past month. Elias looked very imposing, his hands folded under his chin as he watched, cold blue eyes seeming to see into Jon’s very being. Despite the fact that he’d been kidnapped by followers of the Stranger, Jon was fairly certain that his absence was not what they were going to discuss.

“How are you doing, Jon?” Elias asked, as though they were merely conversing about the weather.

“Better than I was a few days ago.” Jon couldn’t help but rub at his wrists— Martin had bandaged them when he’d seen how raw they’d been rubbed by his bindings, but they still hurt. “How did things fare in my absence? Did anyone even notice I was gone?”

“Your team did. I believe Martin was doing his best to not worry them, but he could only do so much without you here.”

“Let us cut the pleasantries short, Elias. Why am I here? I highly doubt it’s to go over what I missed while being kidnapped.” Jon folded his arms over his chest, as though the action would protect him from whatever might happen. 

Elias merely stared at him for a long moment, as though his cold eyes were searching his body and soul for the answers to unspoken questions. “What are you planning, Jon? I have let you do as you please until now, but this... unauthorized absence concerns me.”

“I was kidnapped by Nikola. She wanted to use my skin as part of the Unknowing. It should concern you that they might have killed me while you sat around doing nothing.”

“You were hidden from my sight. As much as I would have liked to help you, I could not see where you were being kept.” Elias didn’t so much as change his expression as he spoke. “You keep avoiding the question, Jon. What are you planning? You can’t honestly expect me to believe your going down into the tunnels was merely the result of a curious mind. Your actions concerning Jane Prentiss implied you knew far more than you let show.”

“If you’re so convinced that I’m up to something, and you know so much about me, then why don’t you tell me what I’m up to?” It was a risky thing to say, but Jon had to find out just what Elias knew. Whether his actions up until then were for nothing.

“Fine, if that’s what you desire.” Elias took a deep breath, as though steeling himself to do something unpleasant. “You have memories of an alternate timeline, a timeline in which I seem to have succeeded in achieving my goals. You and Martin were together when this happened, but not for long, hence why you seem to be stuck to each other’s sides now that you’re reunited. A servant of the Distortion, Helen Richardson, sent you back to this timeline in order to stop my ritual from happening again. Is that enough?”

Jon felt like all the air had been sucked out of his lungs. He had wanted to find out the extent of Elias’ knowledge, but now he was regretting it. He’d hoped that he’d been successful in hiding the truth, but apparently it had all been for nothing. He tried to reassure himself that returning to the past hadn’t been pointless. Sasha was still alive, and he’d managed to talk Melanie out of going to India. Although if he failed to stop Elias, none of it would matter.

“You might have thought yourself clever, hiding yourself from my sight somehow, but you failed to give Martin the same protection. I’ve heard love makes people blind, but with you two it allowed me to see just what was going on.” It was as though ice water was flooding Jon’s veins. He hadn’t remembered to use “A Disappearance” to hide Martin from Elias.

Elias knew Jon and Martin had come from a different timeline, that they were working against him. He’d probably known for a while and just sat in his office, patiently watching to see what they’d do. He’d just waited, knowing he could kill both of them if he needed to. 

“So, why haven’t you killed me yet? Surely my existence is threatening your plans. You took care of Gertrude with hardly any hesitation.” It was hard for Jon to keep his voice from trembling and he’d started gripping the arms of the chair to keep his hands from shaking. 

“I really didn’t want to kill Gertrude, but when she planned to burn down the Institute, she left me no choice.” The most unnerving thing about Elias was probably how his expression and tone of voice _still_ had not changed since the conversation started. “You are still of use to me, Jon. I see no reason to get rid of you.”

“I won’t let you win, Jonah.” It was another risk, for Jon to reveal that he knew Elias’ true identity, but he doubted it would change anything.

“I don’t think you actually have a choice here. You may have lived through these events once before, but I’ve still been around a lot longer than you have. You can’t kill me, Jon, not without letting everyone else in the Institute die. For someone who’s so desperate to save lives, I doubt you’ll be able to sacrifice your friends and coworkers.” Elias made a noise that might have been a laugh, razor-sharp as it cut through Jon. “Also, while I said I can use you, I can’t say the same about Martin.”

“If you lay one finger on Martin I swear to the Eye that I will kill you, consequences be damned.” Jon had to fight to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “Or Martin will do it, he’s been itching to end you for a while, you know. Ever since you ended the world, really.”

“You wouldn’t dare-”

“My main goal in returning to the past was stopping you. While I didn’t want to resort to killing you, well... If it’s the only option, I’ll do it. I’m really quite tired of people treating me like a pawn, acting like they know what I’m capable of.” Jon took a breath, trying to calm himself as he rose from the chair and made to leave. In the doorframe he called out over his shoulder. “It’s been six years, for me at least, since I started working in the Archives. I’ve changed more than you can imagine.”

* * *

Martin hadn’t been expecting Jon’s meeting with Elias to go well, but when he practically ripped the door to the Archives off its hinges upon his return, it was sign enough of how things had gone. Martin had wanted to ask about just what had happened but before he could do so Jon slammed the door behind him and sagged against it, covering his face in his hands. _Is he crying?_ Martin wondered, and when Jon’s hands were pulled away it was easy to see the tears streaming down his face. Jon was laughing as well, giggling as he tried to wipe his cheeks.

“What the fuck Jon?” Tim stood from his own desk and made like he was about to approach Jon, but Martin rushed over first, wishing he had a tissue as he tried to mop up the tears. Jon was trembling, his green eyes glowing with rage as he continued to laugh

“He knows...” Jon muttered, pushing off Martin’s hands and wiping his streaming nose. “Everything I’ve fucking done!” Another laugh, this one somewhat hysterical. “Two years of work!” 

“What are you talking about?” Tim seemed almost as angry as Jon did.

“Jon, this really isn’t the best time to break down.” Martin tried to speak in a calming voice but he doubted it would do any good.

“Does it really matter what I do anymore?” Jon giggled again, clutching his forearms as though he were trying to give himself a hug. “I just learned that everything I’ve done has been for nothing, so what does it matter what I do now?”

“W-what? What are you talking about?” Tim sputtered, clearly having noticed the unnatural look in Jon’s eyes.

“You want to know what’s really happening here? What Elias has been hiding from you?” Martin tried to interrupt but Jon seemed to have lost himself. “Elias wants to end the whole world, and I’ve been working for two years to stop him from doing so.”

Martin was at a loss for what to do. It was evident that Jon wasn’t alright; he continued to laugh and cry while muttering under his breath. It wasn’t clear if he was losing control over the Archivist though. They’d talked a bit the night before about the monster that the Eye wanted Jon to become and how close he’d come to letting it out. Martin wrapped his arms around Jon, hugging him tightly in some attempt to calm him down. “Look at me, Jon. Look at me and tell me what you see.”

The words seemed to have their intended effect and Jon seemed to relax, his eyes stopped glowing, the tears stopped flowing. Martin looked at Tim and Sasha, who stood by their desks in an attempt to distance themselves from whatever was going on. “Office, now.”

Jon gave a weak nod, his gaze was somewhat unfocused after his breakdown, so Martin let Jon lean on him as they made their way into the office. Tim and Sasha trailed behind, and although they were silent the unspoken questions seemed to hang in the air. Once inside the office Martin practically deposited Jon behind the desk before going back and closing the door. If they hadn’t already attracted unwanted attention to the Archives he wanted to avoid any further chance. Martin glanced at the ceiling, aware that Elias had to be watching, but it didn’t really matter anymore. Elias already seemed to know everything, like always.

“What the hell is going on?” Tim slammed his hands on the desk the moment the door was closed. “What did he mean, Elias wants to end the world? What have you two been hiding from us?”

“We’re not from this timeline.” Jon’s voice was weak as he spoke, but at least he seemed to be more coherent. “Martin and I are from an alternate future in which Elias, or, if I’m using his real name, Jonah Magnus, ended the world. Martin and I were sent back to stop him from doing that in this timeline.”

“Alright, let’s say I believe you.” Tim rolled his eyes in frustration. “Has returning to the past even done anything? You seem to think it was all for nothing.”

“Everyone’s still alive, aren’t they?” Jon muttered, ignoring the looks Sasha and Tim gave each other. 

“You mentioned something about ‘working for two years’ when you were ranting-” Sasha started to say before Jon cut her off.

“One year, eleven months, and seven days to be specific.” He noticed the irritated reaction he’d gotten and tried to fix his mistake. “Look, I really wish I didn’t know either. I can’t not know.”

“Ignoring how that only raises more questions, does that mean the day you fainted was the day you came back?” Sasha finished, her voice surprisingly calm despite the strange situation she found herself in.

“Yes, although it was just me who was sent. I didn’t want Elias to figure out what I was doing, how I was trying to stop him, so I pretended nothing was going on. I think I succeeded in confusing him, like I did all of you. It took some time to figure out how to act though, I’d forgotten how I used to behave. Then again, four years does change a person.”

“Four years?” Tim’s eyes looked like they were about to fall out of his head from how wide they were. 

“I’d also been by myself for a while, so when I saw people who were either dead or just gone, it was... overwhelming.”

“Just start from the beginning, Jon,” Martin cut in, having experience with how easily sidetracked a story could get when Jon was the one telling it. “Can we keep all questions until after we’ve explained as much as we can?”

“Fine, so long as you don’t hide anything after you’re done.” Tim rolled his eyes and sat down heavily in one of the chairs that sat in Jon’s office but were rarely ever used.

“Look, there’s something you should hear.” Jon reached into his jacket pocket and brought out a tape recorder, Tim made a grunt of what might have been disbelief but he stopped frowning when it started to play.

“Who is that?” Tim asked.

“Gertrude Robinson.” Sasha answered, her eyes wide as she listened, and they only got wider when she heard her name being spoken. Nobody dared say a word more until the tape finished playing, not even when Gertrude was interrupted by Jurgen Leitner, and afterwards there was a stillness as though nobody quite knew what to say.

Finally Tim broke the silence, his voice disbelieving. “Jon, if Sasha was supposed to become head archivist, was it a good thing she didn’t?”

“Probably. The only reason Elias picked me was, well... remember how she said ‘you are now one such ritual?” Jon had heard that tape so many times, but it felt different this time, with the person it had been meant for. 

“Yes, what did that mean?” Sasha asked, her face pale.

“I think I should use Elias’ own words to explain.” Jon closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, and when he spoke again Martin recognized the words. He’d seen them typed onto pages when the world had ended, Jonah Magnus’ statement. “And there was only one being that could possibly serve as a lynchpin for this new ritual: The Archivist. A position that had so recently become vacant, thanks to Gertrude’s ill-timed retirement plans...”

The words sounded somewhat worse somehow, now that Martin knew what had resulted from the last time they were spoken aloud. Part of him wanted to clap a hand over Jon’s mouth and stop him from talking, but he knew that in this timeline they wouldn’t do anything. Jon hadn’t been marked by all the Entities, unless his memories of the other timeline counted. His body still bore no traces of most of them, though; hopefully it was enough. Still, hearing Jon talk about himself like he wasn’t even there, it was unsettling. 

Opening his eyes once more, faintly glowing green, Jon stared at the room without seeing anyone in it. “I have one more tape, and then you can ask questions.” This time, the tape was something Martin hadn’t heard before; it was Jon’s voice.

“Statement of Jonathan Sims regarding the end of the world. Recorded 26th June, 2015, well the second one anyway. Statement taken directly from subject.” There was a small sigh and then an awkward pause, as though the recording had been paused, before Jon started up again. “My name is Jonathan Sims... and I am not from this timeline.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, I'm sorry. It _had_ to happen. This chapter has been written for a while and some of you must have guessed that Elias wouldn't just let Jon go on his merry way and let the ritual he's been planning for two hundred years be stopped. I am sorry though. Things are somewhat tense for a bit but I promise there is a happy ending. Also I have only two chapters left to write and I'm so happy. I love this story but I can't wait to work on other fics when I no longer have a deadline. 
> 
> Thanks to Ostentenacity for being a wonderful beta
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has given kudos, commented, bookmarked, or subscribed! This is my first fic for this fandom and I never expected this response.
> 
> Also, I have a TMA [tumblr](http://artificialdaydreamer.tumblr.com) now, because I keep doing stupid things (like making a cake) and also need a place to reblog TMA things.


	14. 2nd June, 2017 pt 2

####  **2nd June, 2017**

By the time the second tape- the one that recounted the events of the previous timeline- finished, both Tim and Sasha looked like they might be sick. Martin couldn’t blame them, it was a lot of information to take in. Not to mention they’d been given it all at once, not over the course of several years. They’d had to sit there and be informed that not only did Entities of fear exist, but they were serving one just by doing their jobs. 

They’d learned of their own deaths in this alternate timeline, which couldn’t have been pleasant in any scenario. Sasha’s clasped hands had stiffened in her lap as she found out how she’d been killed during Jane Prentiss’ original attack on the Institute. How a monster had replaced her for almost a year without anyone noticing. Tim’s jaw had tightened when he’d learned about the circus and the Unknowing, how he’d blown himself up not only to avenge his brother but to stop the ritual from succeeding. 

Martin could see Jon’s face harden as he listened with the others. Knowing Jon, he was probably blaming himself for everything that happened, despite the fact he’d had no way to know that Elias had been pulling the strings the whole time. Despite having no knowledge of Entities and Avatars when he’d first taken the Head Archivist position. Despite being purposely kept in the dark by Elias so he’d have no idea he was being used. Jon always blamed himself for things that happened, even if they were outside his control.

“So, you’re just going to give up?” Sasha asked Jon, her voice shaking slightly and causing Martin to be drawn out of his thoughts . “Elias knows you’ve been trying to stop him so you’re just not going to try anymore?”

“Of course I’m not giving up.” Jon sighed, running a hand through his hair absentmindedly. “In order for Elias’ ritual to succeed he needs me to be marked by all fourteen Entities. Currently I am marked by the Web and the Eye. I might also be marked by the Spiral and the Stranger due to my interactions with Michael, Helen, and Nikola. I also know that if Elias thinks I’ve outlived my usefulness he will have no problem killing me and letting someone else take my place.” 

“What _I_ want to know is what you’re going to do about this Unknowing thing. If this Circus of the Other is the one that took my brother I should have a say in what happens to it.” Tim had slowly slid down the wall while the tapes played and now sat on the floor, glaring at Jon. 

“What do you want to know?” Jon replied, returning the glare. “I’ve already said the ritual will collapse in on itself even if we don’t interfere.”

“So, what? You’re just going to let those murderers get away with what they did? That circus has killed hundreds of people!”

“I never said that I didn’t plan on getting rid of the circus.” Jon pulled out a file folder from his desk and flipped through it. “Only that there wasn’t a point in stopping the Unknowing.”

“I thought you told Nikola you weren’t going to do anything.” Martin asked, his brows furrowed. 

“I said I wouldn’t interfere unless they forced my hand. They lost the right to safety when they threatened you.” It was somewhat gratifying to hear just how much Jon cared for him, although Martin did hope that it wasn’t the only reason he was targeting the Stranger’s lot again. “Besides, that only applied to the Unknowing, not the circus itself.”

“I’m helping you.” Tim spoke as though it was not up for negotiation.

“Unless you can promise you’ll listen to me and won’t get yourself killed, no, you aren’t.” Jon pulled out one of the pages from the folder and examined it before crumpling it into a ball and throwing it into the trash bin. “I refuse to be a babysitter for a suicidal idiot.”

“Insult me all you want, I’m still coming.”

“I’m not watching you die again!” Jon snapped. Martin was surprised to hear him raise his voice. “I came back to save people, I won’t let you kill yourself for revenge.”

“To ‘save people’ says the man who kept his team in the dark about where we worked, who we were working for, what Elias was planning, for two years.”

“Yes, I lied to you. Partially out of omission and partially to your faces. I lied in the hopes that it would keep you safe.” 

“How are you different from Elias? Both of you are monsters who keep secrets from your subordinates, people who are supposed to trust you. You both act like you know what’s best for us by hiding how the stuff we’re researching actually works. You’re a hypocrite, Jon. How are you any better than he is?” Tim rose to the floor and marched around the desk so he towered over Jon. Martin felt his temper flare at this. He liked Tim, he really did, but what he was saying was out of line.

Tim hadn’t seen the other timeline. He hadn’t been there like Jon and Martin had, hadn’t witnessed any of the things that Elias had done. Martin was entirely aware of what kind of a person the man claiming to be Elias Bouchard was. He was the kind of man who would murder anyone who got in his way and torture people into submission by showing them memories they didn’t want to see. Jon was none of those things, and Martin couldn’t help but get mad at Tim for acting as though Jon and Elias were the same.

“For one thing, I’m trying to keep the world from ending instead of purposely ending it. I’m trying to save lives, or else I would have marched upstairs and killed Elias the day I returned to the past.” Jon met Tim’s fiery glare with a cold one of his own before Martin could say anything. “If I were truly the monster you seem to think I am, what could have stopped me from letting every last person in this Institute, including myself, die if it meant preventing the apocalypse?”

Tim didn’t seem to have a response, and Jon seemed to take his silence as answer enough. “That’s what I thought.” Standing from his desk Jon grabbed his bag and began placing all the files and tape recorders into it. He tugged his jacket on and nodded at Martin. “Pack your things.”

“Where are you going?” Tim demanded.

“I have things I need to do.” Jon replied, adjusting his glasses distractedly. Martin wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but they hadn’t discussed much last night after Jon had gotten back. “I’m going on a... I suppose it’s a business trip. Besides, it seems like it would be best for office morale if I wasn’t around for a while. Sasha, I’m leaving you in charge.”

“You can’t just leave!”

“I thought you’d be glad of my absence. What with my lying to you and being a monster.” Jon grabbed another stack of files and began leafing through them. “Besides, now that you know you can’t be fired you don’t even have to do your job. Just show up, do whatever you want until quitting time, and leave. I’d recommend not trying to follow me, there are... side effects to being away from the Institute for too long.”

“Yet Martin can come with you? Won’t he be affected?” Tim asked, his voice still harsh and demanding. Jon looked at Martin, his eyes wide. It was clear that he hadn’t considered such a thing. In this timeline Martin’s ties to the Institute might still bind him to it, now that he hadn’t been working with the Lonely. If that was the case, if he left with Jon, would he get sick? The withdrawal effects from Jon not consuming statements had initially caused fatigue and weakness and Tim had admitted to feeling sick when he’d tried to run away from the Institute. Martin couldn’t help but wonder if that might happen to him as well.

It seemed like Jon was going over a hundred scenarios in his head, different options they might have if that was the case. “I’m not leaving you. I can’t leave you where Elias can get to you.”

“Jon. I can’t come with you.” Martin’s voice was hoarse, his fists clenched at his sides. It was as though he could feel the thread that connected him to this place, wrapped around his ankles, his wrists, his heart. If he were to go they would start to tighten, and bad things would happen.

“I’m not leaving you behind.” Jon’s eyes were desperate, wild even as he met Martin’s gaze.

“You have to, I’m sorry.” 

“Not an option.” Despite the fact that Jon was the one who could see into people’s heads Martin knew what he was thinking. How he couldn’t lose Martin again, how if anything happened because Jon wasn’t around... Jon wouldn’t be able to live with himself. It was sweet, Martin thought, being able to tell how much Jon cared about him.

“Look at me, Jon. I’ll handle things in the Archives while you do whatever it is you have to do to stop Elias.” Martin sighed. He didn’t want to stay behind while Jon went off on his own again to do who-knew-what. “Just... Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I plan on asking Daisy to come with me, I promised not to do anything by myself.”

“Who’s Daisy?” Tim interjected, snapping Martin back to the Archives and reminding him that they weren’t alone. 

“Daisy is one of the cops who looked into Gertrude’s murder.” Jon replied, pulling out his phone and scrolling through something on it. “Avatar of the Hunt. I mentioned her on the tape.”

“Look, there was a lot to take in on those tapes.” Sasha joined in the conversation somewhat nervously. “I could listen to them half a dozen times and still not understand everything. It’s just a bit much to take in.”

“That’s fine. I’m not expecting you to understand everything I’ve told you.” Jon was still looking mournfully at Martin, his knuckles white on the hand that clutched the briefcase. “I have a few things to do in London before I leave.”

“Oh? Like what? Going to be secretive some more?” Tim scoffed as Jon pulled out his phone and seemed to send a text. 

“If you’re going to treat me like that, then yes. I will be secretive.” Rolling his eyes Jon grabbed one of Martin’s hands with his free one and dragged him through the Archives, Tim and Sasha trailing behind. He stopped and tugged at the trapdoor, ignoring the wide-eyed stares he got as he hauled the heavy door open. “After you, Martin.”

“What?” Martin squawked, staring at the dark passage in the floor. He remembered all too well what had happened in those tunnels. “You want me to go down there?”

“Well someone has to get the book, and...” Jon sighed, shaking his head. “I guess my promise with Elias is void now that he knows I’m actively working against him. I still need to hide you all from him and the tunnels are the only place I can do that.”

“You mean the creepy tunnels that Gertrude’s body was found in?”

“Yes, not only can Elias not really See us down there, there’s a Leitner that can hide you from him permanently. I...” It looked like Jon was struggling to find the right words at first. “I forgot to use it on Martin, it’s how Elias found out about the time-travel in the first place.”

Of all the things Jon could have said that most certainly wasn’t one of them. Martin stared at him for a few moments, blinking in confusion. “Wait, what are you saying?”

“You remember that Elias can essentially look into people’s minds? I didn’t hide you with the Leitner, so he looked into your head and saw what had happened. Everything I’ve done to try to keep him from finding out was all for nothing because I overlooked that stupid little detail.” Jon’s voice was ragged, his hands clenched into tight fists.

“Okay, first off: no. It is not your fault that Elias is evil and thinks that looking into other people’s heads isn’t an invasion of privacy.” Martin counted on his fingers. “That is on him and nobody else. Second, he hasn’t won yet. Stop beating yourself up for things that haven’t even happened yet.”

“You were saying something about spooky murder tunnels?” Tim interjected, arms crossed and mouth pressed into a tight line.

“Yes, there’s a Leitner down there so I need to get it. I’ll be right back.” Jon started to climb down the ladder, but was stopped by Tim putting a hand on his shoulder. Martin could see the almost-imperceptible flinch that came from Jon not liking to be touched. When he and Tim were on good terms it was one thing, but now that Tim was very, very angry at Jon for keeping secrets? It was understandable.

“I’m coming with you.” Tim declared, his voice full of determination. 

“Look, I don’t think it’s a good idea to have a lot of people come.” Jon’s eyes had an anxious look to them. “The tunnels are strange and I don’t want to risk us getting separated.”

“I don’t fucking care. You’ve done nothing but keep secrets and act suspicious so I think I have the right to see just what’s down there. Martin can stay with Sasha.”

“It very much sounds like you’re going to try to murder me.” Jon muttered, continuing down the ladder. Once there was a suitable distance between them Tim started to climb, and as much as Martin wanted to follow he knew that Jon was right. Leitner wouldn’t take to having multiple strangers approach him, so it was best to keep their numbers down. He’d just have to wait for them to return and hope that Tim didn’t actually try to kill Jon. If Tim did try he was in for a surprise when he found out just how powerful his boss had become. 

Fortunately, the two of them returned to the Archives less than half an hour later, a thin book in hand. Tim looked somewhat shellshocked, and Martin hoped that Jon had managed to talk some sense into him. There was barely enough time to read a couple of words from the book before Jon had grabbed his briefcase and coat from where he’d left them on Martin’s desk. 

“Ready to go?” Jon asked, his eyes shining with determination. “We have some planning to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Ostentenacity for the beta.
> 
> I’ll be a bit late answering comments, I haven’t been all here this past week.


	15. 2nd June, 2017 - 16th June, 2017

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for Hunt-related violence

#### 2nd June, 2017

Daisy hadn't been expecting the text to come from Martin; she mostly got texts from Jon. Their conversations mostly consisted of cat pictures, things their partners had done that made them smile, and what books they’d attempted to read. It was nice to have Jon as a friend again. After the coffin Basira and Melanie had spent so much time treating her like an invalid while everyone else in the Institute seemed keen to ignore her. Jon had been in a similar boat. Nobody in the Archives would talk to him, not even Basira, and he’d struggled to come to terms with what he’d become after his coma. 

Becoming an Avatar of the Eye wasn’t the same as being an Avatar of the Hunt, but they could commiserate on how hard it was to fight against the urge to feed. Even now the craving for blood, for the chase, thrummed through her body and made her feel restless. Since she’d gotten her memories of that other life back she’d tried to hold back on hunting again, but she was able to do the bare minimum so she didn’t come close to losing herself in bloodlust. Apparently searching for lost dogs counted as feeding her patron. Daisy remembered that day in the Archives, when those two other Hunters had cornered her and Basira. She remembered the rage and hunger she’d felt upon seeing them, and how she’d let it consume her. She remembered those months after like a fever dream: tearing through monsters and victims alike with no thought on her mind beyond the scent of blood and the shredding of flesh under her claws. 

She didn’t want to ever become that kind of a monster again. 

Nevertheless, when Martin texted her and asked her and Basira for a favor she felt the beast inside her purr in happiness. A chance to punish someone she hated? She’d been waiting for months. 

It didn’t take much time for Daisy to get ready. Basira was waiting for her by the door, and as they drove down the busy London streets she tried to resist the song of the Hunt. Yes, she hated Elias, but there were more important things to deal with rather than the longing to chase down prey. Basira seemed to notice her discomfort and changed the radio station. Listening to The Archers didn’t get rid of the itch, but it soothed the beast somewhat.

When they arrived at the Magnus Institute Jon and Martin were by the door. They exchanged greetings briefly before making their way upstairs to Elias’s office. She had been expecting to see the face of the man she loathed so deeply sitting in his office chair, expecting them. 

She had not been expecting to see Peter Lukas in the chair instead.

“Where’s Elias?” Daisy had to work to keep the snarl from her voice, the Hunt pulsed in her veins, howling at having lost its prey.

“Did you really think he’d be here? Just waiting for you to come for him? No, he’s gone.” Peter looked almost bored as he glanced over the assembled crowd: Jon and Martin, Daisy and Basira, Tim and Sasha. Daisy didn’t have to look at the others to guess they felt the same way she did, that in their own stomachs churned a mixture of anguish and fury. “It looks like you were all set to arrest him. Did you really think you could lock up someone who can see you coming?”

“So, why are you here? Why did Elias put you in charge, Peter?” Jon asked, his voice surprisingly calm. Glancing over Daisy saw that despite his apparent composure Jon’s eyes were burning as they fixed Peter with their gaze.

“Someone needs to run the Institute, especially if the Archivist plans on taking off as well. I may not exactly have experience with running something like this but, well, I’ll figure it out.” 

There was a small bark of laughter and everyone turned to see that Jon was smiling now, chuckling softly to himself. “He didn’t tell you.”

“Tell me, what exactly?” Peter’s bored expression had finally changed to one of mild confusion, but Daisy understood what Jon had meant. Elias hadn’t told Peter about the other timeline, that there was now a group of people dedicated to stopping whatever horrid ritual had ended the world. She didn’t know why Elias was withholding such important information, but if Peter didn’t know she sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him. She just had to hope the others felt the same way.

“Why do you let him do this?” Jon asked, his eyes now shining with amusement rather than hatred. “Let him manipulate you? You’ve known him for so long, and yet you still let him treat you like some servant.”

“Jon, this may not be the best time for that.” Martin muttered, his voice quiet, his eyes wide as he stared at Peter. Daisy remembered how Martin had changed when he’d become Peter’s assistant, how he’d drifted away from everyone else in the Institute. He’d become a shell of himself, and despite now knowing that half of his behavior had been an act, Daisy didn’t want him to succumb to the Lonely again. She’d suspected for a while now that he hadn’t fully rid himself of it, hadn’t shaken off the fog that had once been both comfort and curse. At least Martin hadn’t become an Avatar. He didn’t deserve that fate.

“Let’s just go, Jon.” Daisy spat the words out, her hands clenched into fists. She walked from the office, trying to ignore the thrumming of her blood and the anger she felt at having lost prey. The others followed, and once they were back in the office Jon picked up a book from a desk that might have been Tim’s and handed it to her. It wasn’t more than a handful of pages stapled together, the words “A Disappearance” typed on the cover. “What’s this?”

“A Leitner. It will hide you from Elias.”

“Alright, why do I need it?” 

Jon gave her a small smile. “We’re going to do some hunting.”

Daisy frowned even as the beast inside her perked up at the prospect of a good hunt. “Is that really the best idea?”

“I need to find some people, talk to them, and I figure it’s best I don’t go off on my own. I want you to come with me, not just because you’re suited for this, but because you’re my friend.” Jon actually looked embarrassed as he spoke, his cheeks flushing slightly even in the dim light of the Archives. 

“So it’s more like a road trip?” she asked tentatively.

“You could call it that. It won’t be for a few weeks at least, I have something I need to do first.”

“I’m in.”

* * *

#### 16th June, 2017

Jon wasn’t sure if Tim would actually show up. It had been around two weeks since they’d last seen each other and despite Martin’s assurances he was fairly sure that Tim was still mad at him. It was understandable, Jon had been furious with Elias for hiding so much from him, but then again, Elias had used him to end the world. Jon could only hope that Tim would forgive him if they succeeded in preventing Elias from succeeding. Regardless, Martin had texted him about getting rid of the Circus and they still hadn’t received a response. They didn’t know whether they’d see Tim or not.

“Are you quite sure about this?” It was all Jon could do to not roll his eyes at Martin. They were hiding behind a group of bushes across the street from a brick building with large windows, white paint peeling off them. Once there had been letters that spelled out “House of Wax” in electronic bulbs but it looked like several had either fallen off or gotten stolen.

“Are you going to ask me that every time we’re about to do something dangerous?”

“Well, I mean... It’s just that this is really dangerous and Tim died the last time so I want to make sure that you know what you’re doing.”

“Martin, to answer your question, I am 78 percent sure that this will work, with a one percent margin of error. However, this is the best idea I have and the longer we wait out here the bigger the chance that someone will notice we’re here. Besides, we’re not using explosives this time.” Jon straightened up from where he’d been crouching, checking his watch. “I don’t think he’s coming.”

“You don’t think who’s coming?” Martin seemed to nearly jump out of his skin at the sound of Tim’s voice coming to them from the shadows. 

“T-Tim!” Under the dim light of the flickering streetlight it was hard to make out details but it definitely seemed to be Tim. 

“That _is_ my name.” Tim sounded like he was trying to be his normal, carefree self but there was a definite bitter note to his words.

“You made it.” Jon glanced across the street again. Nothing had changed. “I wasn’t sure if you would show.”

“You really think I’d miss out on this? I’ve been dreaming about getting justice for Danny every damn day for years.” Tim frowned, peering at the wax museum with a look of disgust on his face. Jon tried to guess what Tim might be feeling. He was undoubtedly excited about the revenge he has sought for so many years, yet having to rely on Jon in order to get said revenge... That was more complicated. It was evident that Tim regarded Jon as something less than human, especially after his meltdown in the Archives. “So, what’s the plan here?”

Jon held up a large bottle, a piece of cloth shoved down the neck. Several more bottles were stashed in his backpack, and the smell was causing him to feel a little lightheaded. “Burn the place down.”

“You’re- You can’t be serious.” Tim seemed to momentarily forget his anger as he crouched down next to Jon and took the bottle, examining the label and alcohol content. “I never thought I’d see the day where Jon encourages arson. Breaking into buildings and doing other illegal shit in order to research statements was one thing, but arson?”

“Oh he’s done much worse than arson.” Martin chimed in, unzipping Jon’s backpack and grabbing some other makeshift Molotov cocktails. “They blew up the place last time but while that did stop the Unknowing, well. People died and the building next door needed major repairs. We figure wax and sawdust will burn well.”

“I can See that everyone is inside. Nikola, Breekon and Hope, the Anglerfish.” Nodding, Jon took off the backpack and joined Martin in emptying it. “I figure we can use petrol around the perimeter and then set the building ablaze. I doubt they’ll be able to escape if the fire’s surrounding them.” 

“Then what do we do?” Tim asked, eyes locked once again on the museum.

“We watch their dreams go up in flames.”

* * *

It was simpler than Martin had expected, for once. He, Jon, and Tim had all taken turns walking around the wax museum, blocking the doors from opening and checking for other means of escaping once the place was alight. Then they started chucking their flaming bottles of alcohol through various windows, followed by retreating to the opposite side of the street and merely observing as the fire spread. For a moment he wasn’t sure if it had worked, that the fire would actually catch and they’d have to come up with some other plan. Then he saw an orange glow intensify from behind a shattered window, and the screaming began. 

For servants of an evil fear-Entity they couldn’t do much against the flames. Nikola was made of plastic, Breekon and Hope had seemed human enough that fire would affect them, and while Martin hadn’t encountered the Anglerfish himself he trusted Jon’s word that it could be burned with the others. Remembering how these _things_ had kept Jon in this awful place for a month, two if he were to count the other timeline, he didn’t feel sorry for them. The circus had been responsible for Tim’s death, for Daisy going into the coffin, for putting Jon in a coma. They deserved this. 

There was a strange noise from beside him and he turned to see Tim doubled over, clutching his stomach. He made the noise again and Martin realized it was something between a sob and a laugh. “Fuck.” Tim gasped, sinking to his knees, the flaming house of wax reflected in his eyes. “Four years I’ve been waiting for this.”

“Are you okay?” Martin didn’t know if this was the right thing to ask, but he couldn’t just ignore Tim, the man looked on the verge of bursting into tears.

“I’m fine, it’s just...” Tim took a shuddering breath, eyes shining with tears. “What am I supposed to do now? I’ve spent so long working towards this, and now I’m stuck in a job I can’t quit. I’m working for a murdering psychopath who wants to end the world and my other boss is a fucking monster.”

“I’ll try not to take offense to that but I do remind you that it wasn’t my choice to become this way,” Jon muttered, staring at the burning building with such concentration that Martin knew it was only so he could avoid looking at Tim. 

“Look, I’m sorry, but this whole thing is absurd! Time-travel? Elias wanting to end the world? Even knowing what I know about the circus and what I’ve read about in statements... It’s still a lot to take in.”

“Yeah, it is.” Martin agreed sadly, a part of him longing for the days before he’d known about the Entities and their Avatars. It was so much easier back then, where the most he had to worry about was having enough money to afford making payments for his mum’s care and his own flat. That and worrying about one of his bosses finding out he’d lied on his CV. Those fears seemed so... small now. So minor compared to the task of preventing the end of the world. “You’re still alive though.”

“I’m alive for now. Elias might kill me, or a vampire might get me.” Tim sighed, watching as a window on the upper floor of the wax museum blew out. “For the longest time I knew what I was doing. I would avenge Danny, make those bastards who killed him pay for what they’d done.”

“Now that you’ve done that, you’re realizing you didn’t have a plan for what came next?” Jon asked, somewhat sadly.

“Yeah.”

“It’s okay, Tim. You don’t have to know what you’re doing yet.” There was a loud sigh and Martin watched Jon’s shoulders sag. “Yes, you’re bound to the Institute, but I will find a way to free you.”

“Do you know of any ways?” Tim asked, his voice a bit hoarse.

“Yes, there are a few ways that you, Sasha, and Martin could leave. Blinding yourself has proven effective in the other timeline.” Jon grimaced, and Martin remembered how Melanie had done just that. She’d freed herself from the Institute’s ties, but he could only guess what Jon had witnessed.

“I- I’m going to have to pass on that tempting offer.” Tim grimaced.

“There’s one other way to leave, but that’s not an option.” Jon’s voice was quieter now and he seemed to curl in on himself.

“Why not?” Tim asked, possibly a little harsher than was necessary. 

Another sigh, Jon seemed even smaller now. “Because I’d have to die. If the Archivist dies, the archival assistants are able to quit.” 

Martin was silent for a few seconds, his mind reeling with this new information. “How do you know this?”

“The... The Beholding told me. When I was trying to figure out a plan to free everyone.”

“Yeah.” Martin resisted the urge to hug Jon tightly. “Not an option. We can find another loophole to exploit.”

Tim got to his feet, albeit somewhat shakily, before closing his eyes and clenching his fists tightly. Martin wasn’t sure what he was doing but decided not to interrupt. The whole point of going after the circus was to provide some closure for Tim, to allow him to get back at the thing that had killed his brother. Jon and Martin had hoped that this would allow him to start healing. To move on past simply living for revenge. 

The roof of the wax museum collapsed in a shower of sparks and Tim’s smile was visible in the flickering light of the burning building. “I love you, Danny.” He said, his voice cracking. “Goodbye.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Unknowing has been handled, we're in the final stretch now. If only someone hadn't looked at their outline to find the ending they'd planned for won't... work. I think I've figured out what to do so now I just have to write it. Yay... I've burned through so many buffer chapters...
> 
> I think I need a break.
> 
> My writing struggles aside, everyone still enjoying this? 
> 
> Thanks as always to [Ostentenacity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ostentenacity/pseuds/Ostentenacity) for being awesome and also for the beta! They're an amazing writer and you should check them out!


	16. 1st August, 2017 - 3rd September, 2017

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for Lonely-related depression.

####  **1st August, 2017**

Jon didn’t want to say goodbye. 

He knew that if he ever wanted to truly stop Elias then he had to leave. He had to find the people who would give him the answers he needed. That didn’t make it any easier to go when the time came. 

When he’d first returned to the past, he’d planned on going off by himself, but now that he had Martin by his side- now that they’d been living together for over a year- it was hard to go back to doing things alone. Jon knew he wasn’t truly alone, since he’d have Daisy to accompany him for his travels, but the memory of walking that hellish world by himself in the previous timeline still weighed heavily on his mind. He’d finished everything he could do in England, though, and the next steps he had to take meant leaving the country. He hated that it meant leaving Martin and Jon really, really didn’t want to do that, especially now that he knew that Peter was once again in charge of the Institute.

“Will you be alright?” Jon hated how noticeable the fear was in his voice. He and Martin stood across from each other as Daisy loaded their bags into her car, their hands clasped together as they stared into each other’s eyes. “With Peter, I mean. I know you can handle him, but...” He trailed off somewhat lamely. 

“I should be fine, Jon. It’s you I’m worried about. You’re literally going after things that very well might kill you.” Martin smiled, but it was clearly strained. “Will you be alright?”

“I think so? It’s hard to predict just what will happen— we’re kind of going off course from our original plan, and twisting this timeline because of it. Before we were simply changing things that we expected to happen, like with Jane Prentiss and the Unknowing. Now? I have a plan that might work, but I honestly don’t know how things will turn out.”

“Just... Promise me you’ll stay safe?”

“I can’t... I can’t promise that I’ll do more than try. I already promised I wouldn’t do anything alone, and I will do my best to take care of myself. I can’t guarantee much more than that.”

“All packed!” Daisy called out, slamming the trunk down with what was probably more force than necessary. “You ready to go?”

Jon’s heart gave a funny lurch. He glanced at Daisy and knew that he had to make this next step. If he wanted to see that future where he and Martin could live happily, hopefully with one or two cats, then there was one path to take. That still didn’t make this simpler.

“This... This isn’t goodbye, Jon.” Martin’s eyes were shining with tears as he pulled Jon into a hug. “We will see each other again. Alright?”

“So, what? We’re not saying goodbye then?” It was hard to get the words out, Jon’s throat ached as he held back tears.

“No, let’s think of it as an ‘until we meet again.’ How’s that?”

“Sounds good.” Jon inhaled deeply, trying to memorize the sensation of Martin’s hug, his warmth, his scent. He didn’t know when he’d be able to experience it again. They broke apart slowly, not wanting it to end. “Until we meet again?”

“Until we meet again.”

* * *

####  **20th August, 2017**

Having never been to America, Daisy wasn’t particularly sure what to expect. She’d seen it in movies, but, well, it was kind of underwhelming. It was crowded, the air hot, heavy, and smelling strongly of car exhaust. Definitely not a place she’d visit voluntarily. Fortunately, they were not there for leisure. She could overlook being uncomfortable now that they’d found Trevor and Julia after less than a fortnight of tracking. Jon had also managed to get the book he needed from them without spilling any blood. Daisy had watched from a small distance away as they’d spoken but had agreed not to interfere unless things got violent, so she wasn’t entirely sure what they’d talked about.

“How did you get them to give you the book?” They walked away from the dirty alleyway, which came as quite a relief to Daisy. The smell had been irritating her nose, and while the city itself wasn’t particularly aromatic, it was better than rotting fruit and garbage.

“I offered a trade. I compiled all the knowledge of the Entities and monsters I have into a guide they can have.” Frowning, Jon stuffed the book into his bag. “They’re not fond of using this anyway, something about how the dead should stay dead.”

“Lucky for us.” Daisy rolled her eyes. “You sure they won’t come after us anyway? They might change their mind.”

“Reasonably sure. I told them I plan to destroy Gerry’s page. Even if they do try and track me down again it’d be for nothing.” Jon could only hope that was true. He really didn’t want to see Julia or Trevor again. 

“What now?”

“We go back to the hotel and try to get answers from a ghost.”

* * *

It wasn’t a surprise for Martin when Peter Lukas sought him out. Honestly, he’d been expecting it. Elias hadn’t told Peter anything about the other timeline, so there was no way he’d know Martin had learned a great deal about the Lonely. Then again, Elias had withheld information from Peter in the past, so it wasn’t too out of character for him to do so again. Nevertheless, when Peter appeared behind Martin while Tim and Sasha were out of the Archives it took a great deal of effort to hide his irritation. 

“You’re Martin, is that right? Elias told me about you.” Peter’s presence seemed to drop the temperature of the room several degrees, fog creeping between the shelves of files Martin had been looking through.

With a nod Martin tried to ignore the cold, the memories the fog brought back. “T-That’s me.” It was frustrating how his voice had shaken. “What brings you to the Archives?”

“Well, you see Martin, I have a question for you.” That voice. Martin hated Peter’s voice, hated how it made all his doubt and worry come back to him. “I’m looking for an assistant, someone who knows the Institute better than I do. I was wondering if your friend Tim might be interested, he seems a bit lost now that the circus is gone.”

That wasn’t what he’d been expecting. Peter had wanted him in the other timeline, he’d thought Martin was the best possible person to bring over to the Lonely. Then again, in that timeline things had been very, very different. Tim and Sasha had been dead, Martin hadn’t really connected with Melanie or Basira, Jon had been in a coma, and his mother had just passed away. He’d been a very different person then. But now he had something to live for, a future he would fight for. 

Tim, on the other hand? While Tim had been able to get his revenge on the circus that killed his brother, it was clear that he was still dealing with a lot. The fact that Martin and Jon had hidden so much from him for years obviously bothered him. He’d trusted them, but in Tim’s mind _they_ hadn’t trusted _him_ enough to tell him the truth. Then there was the Institute itself and Elias’ true agenda he had to deal with, and not being able to quit despite knowing that the place was evil. Tim didn’t talk much during work hours, didn’t do anything besides watch videos or fool around on his phone. Sasha was worried, she’d tried talking with him several times but he had brushed off her concerns. With where Tim was now, he might have been a good target for the Lonely.

That didn’t explain why Peter had come to Martin though. No, if Peter wanted to have Tim start working for the Lonely he would have sought Tim out instead. He definitely wouldn’t have come to Martin, not unless he wanted something else. 

Oh. 

Peter didn’t actually want Tim. No, the more Martin thought about it the more he was able to understand. Despite Tim’s current mood he had once been sociable, cracking jokes and dragging the Archives team to the pub or other events. Peter wanted someone who was drawn to isolation, who liked being by themselves, and despite how hard Martin had been trying these last few years he had never quite been free of the Lonely. This had to be a manipulation tactic to make Martin willingly give himself to the Lonely. In the other timeline Peter had encouraged Martin to essentially sacrifice himself in order to save others, it made sense he’d try that tactic again.

Well, if that was what he wanted, who was Martin to deny him? He’d tricked Peter once before, and now that he knew just what the man was capable of he’d have a better idea of how to mislead him. If he didn’t hate Peter so much Martin might have felt bad for him. He really had no idea what he was in for. “I don’t think Tim would be interested in being your assistant actually. He doesn’t want much to do with the Institute at the moment, what with Elias killing Gertrude and all.” Shrugging his shoulders Martin returned his attention to the shelves of files. He had to keep the act believable while still keeping Peter’s interest “I could help you out with some stuff though. I’ve got some experience assisting Jon, and now that he’s not around I don’t really have much to do anymore.”

It was impossible not to notice how Peter’s eyes lit up at that. “Oh really?”

“Yeah. Plus Tim and Sasha are stuck in their own little worlds. It’s just, it’s really lonely, y’know?” Alright, that might have been laying it on a little thick, but if Peter noticed he didn’t show it.

“Well, I look forward to working with you Martin.” The fog thickened around them, and Peter seemed to vanish into it. “I feel like we’ll get along just fine.”

* * *

“And so Gerard Keay ended.” Jon finished reading from the book and looked up to see the hazy form of Gerry standing before him. Daisy sucked in a lungful of air and stiffened, her eyes wide.

Gerry looked much the same as he had the last time Jon had seen him, which didn’t come as a surprise. He doubted ghosts could change their appearance, even if they wanted to. His straight, dark hair brushed the shoulders of his leather jacket, his eyes cold and emotionless. Most of his tattoos were covered by his clothing, the ones on his hands and neck being the exceptions. Jon admired Gerry for having the confidence to wear whatever he wanted, to have tattooed eyes all over his body, and not fear getting judged.

“Who are you? Are the hunters dead?” Gerry frowned at Jon, who was struggling with the deja vu he was experiencing.

“I’m- I’m Jonathan Sims.” Jon stammered, trying to remember how this had gone in the previous timeline.

“Are the hunters dead?” Gerry asked again, his tone low and annoyed.

“No, but-”

“Then piss off. I’m not talking to anyone.” Glancing at Daisy his eyes narrowed. “Especially in the presence of another hunter.”

“Daisy’s a friend of mine, she's- She’s not with Trevor or Julia.” Jon stammered, trying to convince Gerry to trust him. “I got the book away from them so I could free you. They won’t be bothering you ever again.” It was somewhat of a relief that he managed to get the words out without being interrupted again.

“That’s rich.” Gerry snorted. “How did you take it from them without killing them? Or them killing you, for that matter.”

“A trade, one monster manual for another.” Jon tried to smile but he was too anxious to be convincing. 

“You sought out those hunters just so you could talk to a dead man?” Gerry sighed. “Who did you say you were?”

“Jonathan Sims, I’m the Archivist. My friend is Daisy Tonner.”

Gerry was silent for a few seconds before he spoke again, his voice now soft. “When did she die?”

“About a year after you did.” It felt strange to be having this conversation again. “Elias killed her.”

More silence. “I always guessed there was something off about that guy.”

“I’m trying to stop him from ending the world. He’s got this ritual that brings all fourteen Entities into our dimension, all under control of the Eye. I was wondering if you could offer any advice.”

Gerry stared at Jon, his eyes wide. “Wow. That’s not what I was expecting you to tell me. Gertrude said she was trying to stop the Watcher’s Crown from happening but-”

“It- It’s not the Watcher’s Crown. That was attempted two-hundred years ago by Jonah Magnus, and it failed. He’s been body-hopping for centuries, biding his time until he found a ritual that would succeed.”

“You mean to tell me that Elias-”

“Is actually Jonah Magnus, yes.” Jon took a deep breath. “I promise I’ll burn your page, but you’re the last person I can think of who worked with Gertrude and has a decent amount of knowledge about the Entities as well as some rituals.”

“How do you know all of this?” Gerry asked, lips pursed together in confusion.

“Time travel involving the Distortion.” Jon was somewhat tired of describing how he’d managed to gain knowledge of the future. He had to hope that Gerry would understand him without further explanation. “This is technically not the first time I’ve spoken with you.”

“Right then.” Gerry didn’t seem convinced but also didn’t push the subject. “So, what did you want from me?”

“So, the way Elias’ ritual worked was he had me become marked by all fourteen Entities and summon them to this world.” Taking a deep breath, Jon tried to brace himself for whatever answer might come. “I want to know if a counter-ritual might be possible. To seal them all away permanently.”

“In simple terms? No. It’s not possible.”

Jon felt his heart sink. “Dare I ask why?”

“You can’t get rid of fear. No matter what you do, how hard you try, someone is going to be afraid of something. Those Entities have targeted our world, and so long as people feel fear they will continue to exist.”

“You don’t think there’s any way they can be sealed away?”

“No, I already told you.” Gerry examined his nails. “From what I’ve learned, unless you get rid of fear entirely, you can’t stop them. You can stop people marked by them, you can stop their rituals, but that’s it.”

“Well, what should I do now?” Jon demanded, stressed because once again he had to come up with a new plan.

“You’re the Archivist, you tell me.”

* * *

####  **3rd September, 2017**

It was surprisingly easy to get used to having Peter Lukas as a boss once again. Martin knew which hallways were more likely to fill with fog than others, what to say in order to avoid suspicion. It truly did seem like Peter had no idea Martin had done this all before. 

Peter set Martin on menial tasks at first, taking care of emails and going over the budgets for the individual departments. Surprisingly no attempts had been made to draw Martin over to the Lonely, Entities hadn’t even been mentioned. This made things somewhat easier because he didn’t have to stop talking to Jon, if he’d had to cease contact altogether things would be very different. He might even have welcomed the cold embrace of the Lonely if it meant the pain would go away. 

It was affecting him, though, and with each passing day he felt like he was losing a part of himself. Despite the fact that Tim and Sasha were still alive, Martin found it hard to do more than ask if they needed help in the Archives. He felt as though now that they knew the truth, knew how much he’d kept so much from them, they didn’t want anything to do with him. 

No. No that wasn’t true. Martin shook his head, trying to clear the fog away. _Be strong,_ he told himself, rubbing his hands together in an attempt to warm them up. The Institute had been colder lately and he doubted it had anything to do with the time of year. _You’ve changed. You are stronger than they think you are. You have friends. You have Jon. You can do this._

It had been hard to get out of bed this morning. He’d had a dream that Jon was there, that he’d spent an hour just holding Martin and whispering words of love into his ear. Then he’d woken up to find the other side of the bed cold and empty. Martin then proceeded to spend the next half hour suppressing tears. He understood why Jon had left and why he couldn’t have brought Martin with him. That didn’t make him miss Jon any less.

The fog still lurked at the back of his mind, a siren song promising freedom from sadness and fear. If Martin gave into it he could very well lose more than that— he could lose his memories and forget just who he was. He couldn’t let that happen. He and Jon were both fighting their own inner battles: Martin against the Lonely and Jon against the Archivist. They both struggled to contain the parts of them that they longed to forget about, that waited for a moment of weakness to seize control.

It helped that Jon called every night, although Martin couldn’t remember half of what they talked about. It was just nice to hear his voice again, to remember that he was both in love and loved. Martin might be playing the part for Peter, but he was not lonely anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Thanks to those who stuck around while I took a break, turns out that trying to write one chapter a week for three months can lead to burnout. Good news though! This fic is 100% written and edited! It's done guys! 
> 
> So much thanks to Ostentenacity for the awesome beta work!


	17. 18th September, 2017 - 5th October, 2017

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings for talks of death and some Lonely-related depression.
> 
> I also upped the rating on this fic mostly because I forgot just how creepy Jane Prentiss is and would rather be safe than sorry.

####  18th September, 2017

Gerry’s words still rattled around Jon’s head. There wasn’t a way to seal the Entities away after all, meaning he’d yet again wasted his time. It was maddening, having to throw away his plans  _ again _ . He had some amount of respect for Elias, if only because he’d been working towards his ritual for two-hundred years. Jon had done some spectacularly stupid things during that time, but Elias had always managed to restructure his plans around whatever happened. 

Groaning, Jon rolled over in his bed. The motel they were staying in was cheap, but at the cost of comfort. Between the lumpy mattress and his racing thoughts Jon doubted he’d be sleeping any time soon. He really hadn’t wanted to burn Gerry’s page but it had been the right thing to do. Gerry didn’t deserve to be imprisoned inside a book, dead but unable to truly die. 

After visiting the Usher Foundation, Jon and Daisy felt more stressed than ever. They had, unsurprisingly, been unable to find any useful information, just more dead ends. Jon was very well aware that figuring out how to stop someone from ending the world was no small task, but he wished it were easier to figure out just what he was supposed to do. 

Still, Jon was done with America and he could finally head back to London. A month and a half of time wasted, he was looking forward to leaving. He was almost out of statements, although it didn’t help that it was taking more and more to satisfy him nowadays. That and they all tasted so stale and flavorless, which did concern him a little. The Archivist had been surprisingly quiet since Helen had trapped it in his head, but who knew how long that would last.

Still, at least he’d gotten valuable information from Gerry, he wasn’t chasing some pointless counter-ritual only to find out at the end he’d played into Elias’ hands once more. Jon had one last idea to try before he gave up hope completely. He could only hope it would work.

####  25th September, 2017

It had been almost two months since Jon had left, and while he’d mentioned he was finishing up what he had to do in America he hadn’t said when he might return home. It was getting harder to avoid the fog. Martin had started to lose track of time, the days blurring together so he couldn’t remember what had happened when. He was either working or he wasn’t, and there had been a few mornings where he’d started to get ready only to look at his phone and discover it was a Saturday. Today was a Monday, he knew that at least, but it wasn’t until he checked the post box upon arriving at his flat that he realized what the date was.

A package sat inside, the cardboard box plain but there was a sticker affixed to the shipping label. “Happy birthday” it read in red bubble letters, a smiley face wearing a party hat next to it. Daisy must have added that, Martin couldn’t see Jon using goofy stickers. He checked his phone and found, to his surprise, that it was his birthday. Jon had remembered, while Martin had forgotten.

Bringing the box inside he cut the packing tape with a pocket knife— never can be too careful in a world with monsters— and opened it. Two envelopes lay on top, one a bright yellow and the other plain white. The yellow envelope had a birthday card inside, a cheerful thing that both Daisy and Jon had signed. The other envelope had a letter, which Martin read several times with shaking hands.

_ Dear Martin, _

_ I miss you. I told myself a dozen times not to start this letter that way but, well, it’s the truth. I know we talk every day, but it just isn’t the same. I wish you were here with me now. Granted, America is just as underwhelming as I remember it being the last time so you might not have enjoyed it. Can’t get a decent cup of tea anywhere, although that might be due to me growing so used to the tea that you make. No others can compare. _

_ That’s not what I meant to talk about. Happy birthday, Martin. Hopefully this arrived on the right day. I wish I could celebrate with you. Once this is all over I want to go on a real vacation with you, I don’t care where we go so long as we’re together. We could go to the beach, if that’s the kind of thing you’d want to do. Maybe we could visit that tea shop again, the one I took you to so you wouldn’t meet Jane Prentiss? You said we looked like we were on a date, so it might be nice if I actually took you on a date there. Daisy said we could also use her safehouse for a bit if we wanted, see the cows again. I’m not so sure about that, given everything that happened there, but I appreciate her offering. _

_ I hope you’re doing alright. I hope Peter isn’t getting to you, but if he is please remember that I will always come for you. I love you. _

_ Happy birthday again, _

_ Jon _

_ P.S. I made your gift myself. Daisy taught me how to knit but it’s a bit messy. I hope you like it anyway. _

The handwriting was messy in a few places, as though a shaky hand had written the words. It was understandable, though, Martin missed Jon too. He wished that Jon was with him for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Underneath the envelopes was a scarf knitted from dark blue yarn, streaks of teal and purple running through it. There were a few holes where stitches must have been dropped, and the rows were uneven in some places, but when he held it close to his face he could breathe in Jon’s scent. Jon had made this for him, and as clumsy as it looked, Martin hadn’t really ever had someone do that before, had never had someone care about him enough to make him a gift.

Today wasn’t the best birthday Martin had ever had. That had been last year, when Jon had planned a nice evening for the two of them. He'd made dinner, then they’d watched a movie and spent a lot of time cuddling. On the other hand, it certainly wasn’t the worst birthday ever. Besides, if he and Jon succeeded, he knew that next year’s would be better. 

That night he slept more peacefully than he had in months, the fog leaving him alone until he woke. 

####  5th October, 2017

Despite the fact that Oliver Banks had been the one to help Jon out of his coma in the previous timeline, Jon didn’t actually know what the man looked like. He only had the faintest memory of a voice breaking through the dreams he’d been trapped in. He didn’t even remember what the voice had sounded like, just that it had offered him a choice. 

Nevertheless Jon had been able to recognize Oliver instantly, not from his looks but from the feeling he gave off. It wasn’t as though he radiated death; the air around him was just a little too still. He was actually rather attractive, despite looking as tired as Jon felt. His black hair had been cropped short and his brown eyes had a sadness to them that made it hard to break away from his gaze. He and Daisy had found Oliver in a park, sitting on a bench and watching people feed the birds. 

Martin had wanted to come along, but Jon hadn’t thought it was the best idea. For some reason his eyes seemed to darken and his jaw clenched whenever Oliver’s name came up even for a second. Jon wondered just what the guy had done to get someone like Martin to hate him. Maybe he’d missed a statement somewhere in the mess that was the Archives that recounted Oliver kicking a kitten.

“Oliver Banks?” Jon cleared his throat, hoping he didn’t sound flustered. “I’m Jonathan Sims.”

“I think you’re looking for someone else.” Oliver’s voice sounded casual enough but there was an edge to it. Still, Jon needed to talk to him.

“Is it Antonio Blake then? Or perhaps Dr. Thomas Prichard? I’m hoping to speak with any of them.” 

It had been a warm day, but the temperature seemed to drop at least ten degrees in an instant. Oliver’s eyes seemed to fix on Jon’s, as though looking for something nobody else could see. Then again, he’d been able to see the vines that told of people’s deaths even before he’d become an Avatar. It’s lucky that Jon was able to find Oliver at all, since he wasn’t sure when the doomed voyage to Point Nemo took place. It would be very hard to talk to someone when they were at the bottom of the ocean.

“What does the Archivist want with me?” Oliver asked pointedly, glancing back at an older woman who was tossing chunks of bread to a cluster of pigeons. “I heard about Nikola’s death— felt it, more like. Dunno if that has anything to do with why you’re here now.”

“Not really. I know the End sees nothing to gain from rituals.” Jon waved a hand airily. “I’d like to trade with you. Information for information.”

Raising a brow Oliver frowned slightly. “I thought you’d have all the information you ever wanted, being with the Institute and all.”

“It turns out there are certain blind spots. I’m hoping you might be able to fill in the blanks.”

“Alright, then.” Oliver frowned. “Although I don’t see what’s in it for me.”

“What would you like in exchange then?” Jon asked, a bit nervous. “I can’t give you my life.”

“I wouldn’t ask for it. You’ll die when it’s time and I’ve learned there’s no way to change that.” Oliver met Jon’s gaze with his own sad, brown eyes. “I’ll charge you after I see what you need from me.”

“That doesn’t seem quite fair.”

“It’s the only offer I’m going to give you.” Oliver nodded. “You can take it or leave it.” 

“I don’t think I have a choice here.” Jon sighed but nodded in agreement. “I need your help.”

“There’s always a choice, Jon.”

“Not if I’m working to stop Elias from completing his own ritual.” This got a bit more of a reaction out of Oliver, both brows lifting in surprise. 

“So... What? D’you think I’d know what the Eye is planning if you don’t?”

“No, nothing like that.” Jon cleared his throat. “I need to know about death. Elias claims that Institute employees are bound to him, that if he dies the rest of them die as well.”

“You’re going to kill Elias Bouchard? You?”

“Only if there’s no other option. That’s why I came to you.”

“... And?” Oliver pushed, his expression neutral once more.

“Is it possible for Elias to do that? Can he really hold the lives of so many people in his hands like that? Is there a way to cut his ties so that innocent lives aren’t lost?”

“It is possible, with how the Institute is essentially a temple to the Eye. Elias might be strong enough to do something like that. Such a bond could kill them, it could just injure them, it could do nothing. I don’t know a whole lot about Elias but he seems like the sort to lie about that kind of thing.” Sighing, Oliver glanced back at the old woman, a look of concern on his face. “As for how to, er, ‘cut his ties’ I can only guess at the answer.”

“I thought as much.” Jon muttered.

“Oh, Archivist...” A woman sat down on the bench next to Oliver, but neither Jon nor Daisy had noticed her presence until then. She wore vintage-style clothing, her bleached-blond hair cut short enough that the webbing across one side of her head was clearly visible. “If you want to know about ties that bind you’re talking to the wrong person.”

“Annabelle Cane.” Jon knew who she was without asking, although he wasn’t exactly excited to see her. “What do you want?”

“The same thing as you, Archivist. I rather like the world as it is, and I’m keen on not letting Elias end it.” Annabelle gave a sly smile, although it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Oliver’s eyes widened at her words but he didn’t say anything.

“Forgive me, but I don’t exactly trust the Web.”

“Yet you accepted my help before, when I left you that tape Elias had hidden away.” 

“It didn’t end up being useful. Elias saw us coming.” Jon had to try very hard to keep his voice steady. While he had taken the tape Annabelle had left, it didn’t mean he trusted her to have his best interests at heart. Spiders were always bad news.

“That’s hardly my fault, is it?” Still smiling, Annabelle tapped her fingers against the back of the bench. It reminded Jon of something he’d rather forget. Spindly black legs reaching out of a door and grabbing the boy whose name he no longer remembered. “I came to offer some advice, free of charge.”

“Advice about what?” Jon didn’t want her help, he didn’t want to have to rely on the Web.

“I told you, Archivist. Who would know more about bonds than me?”

“Fine, then tell me.”

“The Institute is his place of power, is it not? A temple to the Eye.” Annabelle continued her rhythmic tapping, seemingly unaware of Jon’s discomfort. “By weakening his connection to the Institute, destroying the place for example, you could make it so those bonds are weakened. He can hardly keep many people tethered to him if he’s not at full strength.”

“How do I know you aren’t lying to me? That you don’t have some great scheme in the works that might need Elias dead?” It seemed like the sort of thing the Web would do, having Jon eliminate Elias to get him out of the way. Annabelle had already stated that she knew of Elias’ plan, of his ritual, it would make sense that they’d have their own agenda. The Web was a fan of manipulating others to do things for them, they didn’t interfere directly unless they had to.

“How rude.” Annabelle sniffed. “I come to you with information you need and you accuse me of lying to you?”

“Anything involving the Web is bound to have strings attached.”

“Was that a joke you just made?” 

“Regardless, I thank you for telling me this, but I do not trust you.” Jon returned his attention to Oliver. “Thank you as well. What do I owe you?”

“Nothing. The End gets everything, well, in the end.” Oliver replied, shifting slightly away from Annabelle on the bench. “The thing is, you can’t cheat death, Jon. Not forever. If those employees are destined to die, they will die.”

“I know that.”

Oliver pursed his lips, looking at Annabelle. “What’s this about Elias destroying the world?”

“It’s why I’m here.” Jon bit his lip. “Elias has a ritual that will bring all of the Entities into our world, all ruled over by the Eye. He will condemn everyone to a world of fear just because he’s afraid of dying.

There was a moment of silence in which Oliver seemed to be considering what Jon had said. “Why do you want to stop him? Don’t you serve the Eye?”

“I have seen what that world will be like if he wins and I would very much like to avoid doing so again. Even if it means killing Elias.” Jon replied, trying to sound as casual as possible. He held out a hand, hoping he wasn’t about to make a terrible mistake. “Thank you for the information, Oliver. It was very useful.”

There was an awkward pause in which Oliver just stared at Jon’s outstretched hand, as though he wasn’t quite sure what to do. Finally, he took it with his own and gave it a single, somewhat-awkward shake before letting go. “Not a problem.”

Jon hadn’t been sure what shaking hands with an Avatar of the End would be like, if it would burn his skin like Jude Perry’s. It did hurt a bit; Oliver’s skin was ice cold. Fortunately, it didn’t seem to do any damage, and as Jon walked away he thought about what he’d learned. He hadn’t gained a lot of new information but his discussion had reaffirmed some suspicions he’d already had.

The truth was that Elias had to die if Jon wanted to stop him from completing his ritual. Jon had tried to come up with other plans that didn’t involve murder, but they’d all fallen apart. There was no more information he could find, no more people he could talk to, no more options he could try. The only thing left to do was act.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters left guys! We're almost there!
> 
> All the gratitude to my beta, Ostentenacity!
> 
> Thanks to everyone who comments, gives kudos, subscribes, or bookmarks. This fic may be written but it definitely gives me motivation to keep writing other fics.


	18. 6th October, 2017

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's going down, this is a large one because of all the stuff that needs to happen.
> 
> Warning for, y'know, violence, confrontation, Elias being a terrible person

####  **6th October, 2017**

Jon had been gone a little over two months. He still called Martin almost every night but their conversations were shorter, as though both of them had started running out of things to talk about. Jon had mentioned the other day that he was back in London, he just had a few things to do before he could return home. Somehow knowing that they were in the same city and not being able to see Jon made Martin miss him even more. Being in constant contact with Peter didn’t help much either.

So, when Martin’s phone buzzed, the screen displaying Jon’s name with a heart next to it, he couldn’t help the lurch of his heart. The text was, in typical Jon fashion, short and to the point. Even so, it was enough to chase the cold away.  _ Grab everyone and meet me in the tunnels. _

Tim and Sasha had been doing the bare minimum since Jon had told them about Elias’ agenda. They showed up at the Institute each morning and occasionally tried to organize a shelf to pretend they were working. The rest of their time was spent doing whatever they wanted. Sasha had tried to check in with Martin every once in a while, she even tried to start up trivia nights again, but he always turned her down. Apparently Tim had started going to therapy, at Sasha’s insistence, and was doing somewhat better. That didn’t mean he forgave Martin and Jon for hiding information from him, though. The few conversations they’d had were brief and tense. That being said, it wasn’t too hard to get both Tim and Sasha to stop what they were doing and follow Martin into the tunnels. 

Jon was waiting for them a little farther down the main tunnel. He looked pretty much the same as he’d been the last time Martin had seen him, if not a little thinner, his collarbones seemed more pronounced at least. The bags under his eyes were such a deep purple they seemed almost like bruises, causing Martin to worry about the last time he had slept. Daisy and Basira stood next to Jon looking just as tired, although Daisy’s eyes were as alert as ever. 

After he’d finished climbing down the ladder Martin jogged the last few steps and hugged Jon tightly. Jon made an undignified grunt, as though the hug might have been too tight, but he didn’t say any words of protest. “I missed you.” Martin murmured, feeling more of the Lonely leave him.

“I missed you too.” Jon gave a tired smile before scanning Tim and Sasha’s faces. “Hello again.”

“Don’t expect a hug from me.” Tim had his arms folded over his chest as he met Jon’s gaze.

“I wasn’t.”

“Did you find out how to stop Elias?” Sasha asked, wringing her ponytail anxiously.

“I believe so.” 

“So, what’s the plan?” Tim asked, arms folded over his chest.

“We destroy the Institute, hopefully since it’s a place of power for the Eye it weakens Elias enough that when he’s killed it doesn’t have any backlash on the employees.”

“So, what? You’re just going to burn down the Institute and kill Elias? Is that the elaborate scheme you’ve been working on for months?” Tim scoffed.

“Don’t be absurd, I’m not just going to burn it. I got the plastic explosives from Gertrude’s storage container and we can set those off in addition to setting fire to the Archives. The explosives are destructive but I want to ensure that the statements are gone.”

“Really? We spent how long going over those statements, trying to organize them, and now we’re just going to destroy them?”

What’s your plan then, Tim?” Jon asked, looking at Tim with interest. “I tried to come up with a counter-ritual to seal the Entities away but it can’t work, not so long as people feel fear. The only thing we can do to prevent this ritual from happening is to kill Elias.”

“Can we even kill him though?” Tim looked more skeptical by the second.

“Look,” Martin interrupted before either one of them could escalate things. “Everyone wants Elias dead but do you know where he is? Peter said that he left.”

“Panopticon. Probably with his real body.” Sighing, Jon ran a hand through his hair. “Now that he knows we’re trying to stop him, I figure he’d want to prevent us from killing him.”

“That brings me to my next question. Who’s actually killing him?” Martin asked hesitantly. Sure, he wanted the guy dead— after everything Elias had done in both the last timeline and this one, not just to them but to the world itself- it was what he deserved. He just wasn’t sure if he could bring himself to kill the man if needed. For all his anger and hatred Martin didn’t want to volunteer himself unless he knew he could do it.

“I think it has to be another Avatar, so probably me. I’ve done it once before.” Jon’s voice was low, tinged with resignation.

“You did what?” Tim demanded, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Didn’t I tell you?” Jon asked, sounding confused.

“You said you came from another timeline, not that you murdered our boss!” Letting out a breath Tim continued to stare at Jon. “I think I’d remember hearing that.

“It didn’t seem like important information.” Jon sighed. “In the other timeline I killed Elias, and stabbed the body of Jonah Magnus for good measure. Then I set fire to the Institute myself, and watched it burn while knowing that it didn’t actually mean anything. It was cathartic, yes, but the world had still ended and I’d lost everyone I’d ever cared about. Then Helen showed up and gave me a chance to fix things, so here we are now.” 

“Holy shit...” Sasha’s eyes were wide as she looked Jon up and down. “Jon, are you secretly a badass?” Rather than responding he gave Sasha a perplexed stare. 

“So, Jon will do the actual killing, but when are we going to do this? Are you planning on acting today?” Martin asked, thinking about all the people still in the Institute. If the whole building would be going up in flames he didn’t want anyone to be inside when the fire was lit.

“Yeah, I want to clear out my desk before we start burning things to the ground.” Tim chimed in, the barest hint of his old self returning. It could have been a normal day at work, if it wasn’t for the fact they were standing in the tunnels beneath the Institute and plotting to burn it down.

“The workday is almost over, and it’s a Friday. I would be surprised if most people stayed late today. Martin and I dealt with something similar when we killed Jane Prentiss.” With a shrug of his shoulders Jon made it clear that he didn’t think that what he and Martin had done was as big of a deal as it had been. Then again, compared to what they were about to attempt it was significantly less involved. “We’ll set off the fire alarm to ensure that nobody is in the building once the charges are set.”

“So, should we go back to work as though nothing happened?” Sasha twirled a strand of hair around her finger, lips pursed.

“Yes, you can pack up your things and bring them down here, I should be able to block off some of the tunnels so that when Daisy lays the charges we’ll still have an escape route.” Jon held up a book, “The Seven Lamps of Architecture” glistening in gold on its cover.

“Another Leitner?” There was a note of amusement to Sasha’s voice. “Where are you getting these?”

“He’s stealing them from the man himself, Sash.” Tim seemed unable to hide his grin.

“It’s not stealing if he gives them over willingly, and I think he wants Elias dead as much as we do.” Jon retorted, rolling his eyes. “Besides, it’s not like I plan to keep them forever.”

“Wait, Jurgen Leitner is-” Sasha started to ask before Jon cut her off.

“That’s a story for another day I think. You should go back to work in case someone actually needs you for something.”

It was hard for Martin to climb back up the ladder after a whole month of not seeing Jon, after being so close to the Lonely again. He gave Jon another tight hug, silently praying that something besides fear Entities existed, and that they could hear him.

* * *

Nobody spoke as they made their way through the tunnels a few hours later. The air was thick and heavy, which didn’t do much to lighten the mood. Jon wanted to break the silence but he didn’t know what he could possibly say. Technically, since he was in charge, he could do some sort of pep talk to build morale. He’d read about them in that book about being a better manager. However, he doubted that “preparing to kill your evil boss and prevent the world from ending” was the sort of thing the book had intended pep talks to cover.

Silence it was.

The plastic explosives had all been primed in the tunnels directly below the Institute, and one of them just so happened to have a gas main in them. When the explosives detonated they would destroy it, causing a great deal of flammable gas to be released. Hopefully the fire would take care of whatever the explosives didn’t. 

It wasn’t until when they entered the remains of Millbank Prison that Jon started to notice the fog. It was subtle at first, clinging to the walls in small patches, but as they went deeper it grew stronger. Finally, it got to the point where Jon could hardly see a few paces before him and he stopped. He sighed and braced himself for what was to come.

“You can come out now, Peter. There’s no use hiding.” The fog parted and Peter Lukas stepped out, looking the same as he had the last time Jon had seen him. He looked at Martin, a pitying look in his eyes.

“Well, now. I really hoped it wouldn’t come to this, you really were a good assistant.” Martin paled, no doubt remembering the last time he’d been in the tunnels with Peter.

“Why are you here?” Jon asked, his voice surprisingly calm despite the fact he too was remembering just what Peter had done to Martin in the other timeline. He hated to think that it could have happened again. “Never mind, Elias probably asked you to stop us or something. I’ll try a different question. Why are you so loyal to him?”

“I don’t follow.”

“Elias is lying to you, Peter. Either that, or he has a very good reason for hiding the fact that I’m not from this timeline. Neither is Martin, or Daisy, or Basira.” Peter’s eyes widened the smallest amount, the only emotion his face betrayed. “This is not the first time I have faced you down here, in the Panopticon, and Elias knows it.”

“What-”

“Did he make another bet with you for the Institute? Is that why you took over for him? If you could convince Martin to join you, you’d win?” Martin reached over and grasped Jon’s hand with his own, as though looking to make sure that he couldn’t get sucked into the Lonely again. “It didn’t work last time either, but of course Elias is already aware of that.”

The fog thickened around them as Peter’s face reddened. Sasha let out a yelp of surprise. “Do you know what happened to you in that other timeline, Peter? You died. You died and Elias just watched. You’d already given me the last mark, so what did it matter to him? He had everything he needed to perform his ritual.”

“He wouldn’t-”

Jon looked deep into Peter’s eyes as he remembered just what had happened. The door in his mind opened just the smallest amount to fill in the blanks from when he hadn’t been there. The look on Peter’s face as the information flowed into him was bittersweet. Jon had never tried to implant memories like Elias did, but if it meant that the path to the Panopticon would be clear, then he didn’t care. Besides, Peter had the right to know just what Elias thought of him.

“Get out of the way, Peter.” Jon muttered as the fog began to clear. “I won’t ask again.” He started walking again, and when he looked over his shoulder Peter had vanished. 

Maybe it was because Jon had never planted information into someone before, but as they continued through the tunnels once again he felt something stir in his head. It was gentle, though, and he hoped it was just because he hadn’t really relied on the Eye’s power in a while. The last thing they needed today was to deal with him losing control.

* * *

Seeing Elias in the Panopticon gave Jon a bizarre feeling of deja vu. It had been so long since he’d last stood here, it had been a whole other timeline. So much had changed since then. Since he’d been given a second chance. The last time he’d faced Elias in this place Jon had been about to kill him. He’d stabbed Elias and done the same to Jonah Magnus’ body just to be safe. Now he was about to do the exact same thing, all the actions he’d taken over the past two years leading up to this moment. 

Had it only been two years? It felt like a lifetime had passed since he’d last been in the Panopticon. Jon had done so much in that time: Martin had never been attacked by Jane Prentiss, Sasha hadn’t been killed by the NotThem, and Tim was still alive after getting his revenge on the circus. Melanie had never gone to India, never been infected by the Slaughter. The fact that he hadn’t stopped Helen from getting taken by the Distortion was something he’d regret for the rest of his life. She was the one person Jon hadn’t been able to save, and a part of him hated the fact that he hadn’t even tried. 

Still, he’d done all he could this time around, and when he met Elias’ gaze he felt a small spark of pleasure. There was a trace of fear there, the slightest hint of doubt. Peter had left and there was nobody else to stop Jon and the others from killing Elias where he stood. Two hundred years of planning, of murder and using people. It would all be for nothing.

“Hello, Jon.” Despite the look in Elias’ eyes his voice was as calm and cold as always. They could have been discussing Jon’s performance review. “I assume this is bringing back memories?”

“Hello, Elias,” Jon tried to keep his own voice steady when his heart was pounding so hard it seemed to reverberate through his whole body. “Or would you rather I call you Jonah?”

“I don’t think it really matters anymore.” Elias glanced over the assembled crowd, Jon and Martin, Tim and Sasha, Basira and Daisy. “After all, I doubt all of us will be leaving this place today.”

Taking a deep breath Jon tried to gather his courage, to take in the support of the people he’d brought with him. He could do this. No, he  _ would _ do this. “Before I kill you, I just have one question for you.”

“By all means, ask away.”

“Why do you fear death so much?” It had been nagging at Jon ever since he’d read Jonah’s statement. “Is eternal life really worth it if you don’t have anyone to share that life with?”

“I’m sure I don’t follow.”

“I’ve read the letters people sent you. I know that Peter was willing to die if it meant helping you.” Sighing, Jon ran his free hand through his hair. “I don’t get it, I really don’t. You had people who cared about you and you threw them away, for what? So you could live a little longer?”

“It is a bit strange, yeah.” Martin chimed in, squeezing Jon’s hand with his own. 

“Was it worth it? Looking back on it now, can you really say that your life was well-spent? Even if I die today at least I know that I tried to make the world a little better.” A laugh bubbled up from somewhere in Jon’s chest. “It’s funny, you serve the Beholding, but despite the fact you can know everything, you don’t try to understand it. Meanwhile, I’ve taken the time to do both. I’ve read the statements, I’ve done the research, and I’m not scared of you anymore.”

“Shut up.” Elias’ eyes flashed. “You understand nothing.”

“I understand that underneath all of that bravado you’re just a scared old man. You’re so afraid to die your whole life revolves around it, and guess what? Even if your ritual does succeed it doesn’t mean anything. Summoning all the Entities to our world means bringing the End as well. So, I ask you again, is it worth it?”

“Jon, what are you doing?” Martin asked, his voice a bit nervous.

“I don’t have to kill you, as much as I’d love to do it.” It was true; they could all walk away. Elias could live out the remainder of his life doing... Well, the Institute would soon be on fire so he couldn’t continue to run it, but he could find something else to do. “However, knowing you, I don’t think that’s really an option.”

“What is your point, Jon?” 

“I’m trying to understand you.” Shrugging, Jon took a deep breath. He’d meant what he said, he wasn’t scared of Elias anymore, but that didn’t mean his anxiety wasn’t through the roof. “So far I understand that you’re a cruel man who fears his own death so much that he’s willing to do anything, even end the world, if it means living a little longer. You’re so egotistical that you don’t care what happens to anyone or anything else so long as you get what you want.”

“Shut up.”

“I don’t think I will.” It was getting easier to talk now, and Jon could see the fear in Elias’ eyes more clearly. “You have spent so long working towards this ritual, used so many people, but deep down you know what I’m saying is true. You can’t win, Elias. So, my question is this: was it worth it?”

Elias was silent, glaring at Jon with such a ferocity that he felt Martin’s hand tighten in his own. Jon knew that Elias was capable of doing horrible things and not just because he served the Eye. Now Elias was backed into a corner, and Jon didn’t know what he’d do next. 

To Jon’s surprise, Elias started to laugh, his eyes blazing with hatred. “You’ve spent two years proving that the future can be changed. Who are you to say that I’ve lost?” 

Tim leaned in to whisper in Jon’s ear. “Now that we’ve proven that our boss is, in fact, a monster cannot admit defeat, will you kill him now?”

“I’ll do my best.” Jon pulled the detonator from his pocket and pressed it. For a terrible second nothing happened, causing him to wonder if he was too far away from the explosives. Then the room shook, the boom echoing off the walls and forcing several people to cover their ears at how loud it was.

“What did you do?” Elias’s face had gone pale, like the destruction happening to his Institute had rebounded onto him.

“Consider this our resignation letter, Elias.” Jon muttered, taking Martin’s offered knife and marching towards the man who had made his life hell for so long. 

It felt somewhat different this time. In the other timeline he’d killed Elias in a last-ditch effort to see if it would put the world back to normal. Jon had been alone then, everyone he’d cared about dead or lost. Now he was acting to protect those same people. Tim and Sasha, Daisy and Basira, Georgie and Melanie. He’d worked so hard to help them this time around, and he would not let it be for nothing.

Then there was Martin. Lovely, wonderful Martin. When Jon had first arrived in this timeline he had wanted to give Martin a happy ending. He wanted a future for the two of them, where they didn’t have to worry about the world ending at any moment. It was what Martin deserved.

“Jon, don’t do this.” Elias looked at him, fear now in his eyes and sweat on his brow as the Institute continued to burn. “Anything you want, I can give it to you.”

“I  _ want  _ to stop you,” Jon replied, making sure to look Elias directly in the eye as he plunged the knife downwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is, hopefully it wasn't too anticlimactic. I tried to come up with a dozen other ways to stop Elias (see Gerry explaining why a counter-ritual is impossible for why my first plan didn't work) but in the end murder was the most practical. Not as flashy as getting a band of Avatars together in solidarity, but it just made more sense this way. To me, at least.
> 
> One more chapter guys! Holy crap! This thing has spiraled (lol) from an idea I had after binging the series to a 53k word fic that has gotten waaaay more attention than I ever imagined. Thanks so much to everyone who has stuck around this long!
> 
> Much thanks to Ostentenacity for the beta!


	19. 6th October, 2017 - 18th October, 2018

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, the last chapter. We see if I did a decent job in foreshadowing.
> 
> Content warnings for blood and loss of autonomy.

####  **6th October, 2017**

Martin watched as Jon stood over Elias’ and Jonah’s bodies, blood dripping off the blade of the knife onto his shoe. Was it over? Jon turned to grin at everyone over his shoulder before his face contorted in pain and he collapsed to the ground. Throwing caution to the wind Martin ran to Jon, panic coursing through his veins. 

Jon lay on the ground, his body just as still as the two near him, and for a horrible moment Martin wondered if stabbing Elias had killed him as well. Thankfully Jon had a pulse, although it was far too fast and his breathing was ragged. Suddenly his eyes opened, and while Jon’s eyes had always been green, they’d also had a pupil and sclera. His eyes had also never glowed with quite that much intensity. Static seemed to fill Martin’s head as he started to understand what had happened. 

“You’re him.” To Martin’s credit his voice wasn’t shaking. “You’re the Archivist, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I am.” The Archivist’s voice was not Jon’s. It was as though it had taken a dozen recordings of Jon’s voice and layered them over each other, the static melding with the words. Its eyes glowed as it watched Martin with interest. 

“The fuck is happening?” Tim blurted out, and looking back Martin could see that almost everyone else was staring at Jon in horror. Daisy was the only one who didn’t seem afraid. She looked concerned, yes, but not for herself. She’d once lost herself to the Hunt, become an Avatar that could no longer listen to reason. If anyone would understand what had happened to Jon, it was Daisy.

“Jon told me that...” Martin tried to find the words to explain just what was happening when his own mind didn’t seem to be fully able to process it. Before he was able to say anything else Jon- no, the Archivist got to its feet. 

“It is as he said. I am the Archivist.” 

“What does that even mean?” Tim demanded, his eyes full of fear and anger.

“The Eye took over... Fuck.” Martin took a step back, trying to find any trace of Jon in the Archivist. It looked like Jon, but there was nothing in his face or body language that hinted that Jon might still be there. It simply stood there, emotionless as it watched everyone with interest. “After the world ended, after we got separated in the other timeline... Jon said it took advantage of his hopelessness and possessed him. I don’t know- Maybe he overdid it killing Elias and the same thing happened.”

“He was doing such a good job too...” The Archivist blinked lazily. “He kept me contained for years, through being tortured by the circus, through Elias’s taunts and threats.”

“What did you do to Jon?” Martin demanded, standing up so he could face the thing that had once been Jon. It hurt, seeing the face of the man he loved so much look at him the way a starving man might look at a feast. He was nothing more than food to this thing, and Martin wasn’t sure if there was anything he could do to bring Jon back. 

“I am still Jonathan Sims. He thought of me as a separate being but I am merely a side of him he’d rather not deal with. The side that hungers for knowledge, that knows that if people are going to fear him anyway why should he hold back?” The Archivist glanced at Tim. “You called him a monster, but he was protecting you from me.”

Tim still looked angry, but there was guilt mixed in with it. Sasha looked like she might be sick while Daisy’s mouth was twisted into a grimace. Basira’s face was a mask of calm indifference, only allowing a hint of fear into her eyes. Martin didn’t know what he looked like, he was terrified for Jon but he was also mad at Elias. Despite the fact that Elias was dead, his blood still seeping onto the floor, it was hard to not blame the man for everything that had happened. 

“Bring him back.” Martin demanded, letting the anger overtake his fear. This was not Jon, this was a monster that had stolen Jon’s face. It wanted him to be afraid, to fear that he’d never see Jon again, so it could feast on his suffering. He wouldn’t give it the satisfaction. “Bring Jon back.”

“I am Jon.” The Archivist returned his gaze to Martin, frowning slightly. “I am him and he is me. I cannot return what no longer exists.”

“You might look like him but you are not Jon.” Martin snapped, wanting to grab the thing with Jon’s face and shake him. “Jon cares about people. He cares so much he was willing to redo two years of his life, willing to be tortured, and willing to risk having people hate him if it meant saving lives. You couldn’t be Jon if you tried.”

Sasha stepped forward slightly, her eyes were wide with fear but her jaw was set. “Jon saved my life. If it weren’t for him I wouldn’t be here now.”

“He, he saved me too.” Tim added, regret in his voice. “He allowed me to move on past my brother’s death. Despite how angry I was at him for hiding stuff from me, I can’t bring myself to hate him.”

“Jon came for me when nobody else would.” Daisy joined in, eyes flashing, fists clenched. “Despite the fact I’d tried to kill him. He risked death when he went into that coffin, I’m not sure I can ever repay him for what he did.”

There was a strange look in all of the Archivist’s eyes. Was it possible that Jon was still inside, fighting to regain control? Was what everyone said helping? Martin couldn’t put words to just what Jon meant to him, but he sure as hell would try.

Stepping forward Martin reached out and grabbed the Archivist’s shoulders, forcing it to look at him with its glowing eyes. “Jon, if you can hear me...” He took a breath, still trying to gather his thoughts. “If you can hear me, I need you. I promised you that I’d be here for you, to help you no matter what, and I will keep that promise. After everything we’ve been through I won’t lose you. In the other timeline we dealt with Jane Prentiss, the NotThem, with Elias framing you for murder. We worked together trying to stop the Unknowing, and...” Thinking about what had happened after the Unknowing was painful, seeing Jon on that hospital bed for months, thinking he was dead. “I wish I’d told you why I’d started working with Peter from the start, but even though we changed the past I can’t erase the things I did.”

It might have been Martin’s imagination but it seemed like the Archivist’s eyes were glowing less. He pressed on, hoping that by reminding Jon of the history they’d shared would bring him back. “When Peter dragged me into the Lonely,” he sighed, remembering the fog and cold with all too much clarity. “I didn’t expect you to find me in there. I would have stayed on that beach forever if it wasn’t for you. Still, you never gave up on me, and even after all I’d done to push you away you didn’t hate me. You- You loved me as much as I loved you.”

Nobody else made a sound as Martin continued. “I know we only got a month together, less before the world ended, but we came back for a reason. We stopped Elias, Jon. We won.” It was hard to keep his voice steady, to keep from breaking down and crying. “So now that we have the rest of our lives ahead of us I have one request for you, Jon.” Another breath, Martin could only pray that this would work. “Look at me, Jon. Look at me and tell me what you see.”

There was a moment in which nothing happened and Martin’s heart sank. Had it not worked? “Please... Look at me.” Martin pleaded, resting his head on the chest of the thing that had once been Jon and trying not to cry.

“Martin?” The voice was weak, barely more than a whisper. “Martin... I see you.”

Eyes flying open, Martin looked at Jon, and it was Jon who stared back at him. His eyes had stopped glowing and returned to their normal color. He looked exhausted, and some of Elias’ blood stained his shirt from when he’d collapsed, but it was Jon. Forgetting that they had an audience Martin seized Jon’s shirt, pulled him forward in one smooth movement and kissed him.

Nothing else mattered in that moment. Jon was still here, Elias was dead, the ritual couldn’t happen now. They’d won. Martin could hardly believe it, that they’d successfully gone back and stopped the world from ending. It had seemed impossible, and yet they’d done it. It didn’t matter that Martin didn’t know what to do next because he’d have Jon by his side, and that was all that really mattered.

A wolf-whistle shattered the moment, Martin and Jon broke apart, their breathing heavy and their cheeks flushed. Tim was grinning, his phone out and the flash went off as he took a picture. Sasha’s face was flushed, but she was smiling as well. Daisy and Basira were seemingly unaffected by what they’d watched, although Martin saw Daisy wink at Jon.

Surprisingly Martin didn’t care what they thought. He was tired of obsessing over how people viewed him. He’d just saved the world for goodness sake, he deserved to kiss his boyfriend. Although maybe they deserved a shower first, then they could spend the rest of the evening cuddling. Maybe even the whole weekend, if Jon was up for it.

* * *

####  **18th October, 2018**

Jon woke to find his face pressed into the crook of Martin’s neck, their legs tangled together, and a cat meowing at him. This was not an uncommon way to start his day, although when he checked his watch he did wish it was a little later. After leaving the Institute he’d started getting used to sleeping in, but it turned out that the cats had a very different idea about when his day should start. He wondered if he could get away with pretending to sleep.

A paw smacked Jon in the cheek, followed by another meow. The smacking continued for another minute, punctuated by meows and yowls of annoyance. Then he heard laughter and cracked an eye open to see Martin staring at him, grinning as Jon was hit again. 

“Are you enjoying watching me get slapped by a cat?” Jon asked, smiling back. 

“I mean, kind of? In terms of things that you’ve dealt with I think that having to deal with Lady begging for food is hardly the worst thing ever. Besides, it’s kind of a morning tradition.” Martin chuckled, Jon loved that sound. He loved so much about Martin.

Despite the dim light of the room Jon could make out a fluffy shape atop the dresser, wiggling from side to side. He may not have had his glasses on but he recognized what the blurry movements meant. “Just wait for your turn.”

“Wait wha-” Martin started to say before a white cat landed on top of him, forcing the breath from his lungs. A pair of mismatched eyes met Jon’s and she meowed in satisfaction. 

“Morning, little Miss.” Jon smiled at the cat, watching her paw at Martin’s face while Lady continued to smack his own.

“Alright then.” Martin sighed, struggling to detangle himself from Jon so he could get up. The cat jumped off him before padding out of the room, her white tail swaying as she walked. “Time to get up, I suppose.”

“You can get up, I’m staying in bed,” Jon muttered, drawing the quilt up over his head to protect it from further cat attacks.

“Oh no you don’t.” In one fluid movement Martin yanked the quilt off the bed, causing Jon to curl up into a ball at the sudden cold.

“Betrayal!” Jon cried out, causing Lady to leap off the bed as well. “Why would my sweet, wonderful boyfriend do this to me?”

“Because if I have to be awake because of the cats I’m making you suffer with me.” Jon grabbed his glasses and put them on, bringing their bedroom into focus. It was small, yes, but it felt cozy rather than cramped. It had been one of the few places available that was close to Martin’s uni and allowed pets. Jon didn’t mind spending a bit more time in the tube on the way to work. 

“You are a cruel man.” Jon muttered, getting out of bed slowly, hissing when his feet met the floor. It was cold, especially since he hadn’t even had the choice to get up. 

“You love me.” Martin replied as the cats meowed around his ankles, begging for food. They’d adopted the pair six months ago, a tuxedo-patterned cat named Lady Luck and an Angola called Miss Fortune. They’d been stuck to each other’s sides in the shelter and had taken to Jon and Martin quickly. 

“You know I do. Does not change how cruel that was.” Opening his dresser Jon grabbed clothes at random, checking only to make sure they were actually his and didn’t clash too terribly. Underneath one of his shirts he caught sight of a small box and suppressed a smile. He put it in his pocket. Today was a good day, wasn’t it? 

Jon joined Martin in the kitchen, watching with the cats as a can of food was opened and dished into two bowls. Lady Luck sniffed at it, scrunching her nose as though she thought it wasn’t to her taste while Miss Fortune dug right in. “Tea?” Martin asked, opening one of the cabinets and pulling out a tin. 

“You really have to ask?” Jon couldn’t help but smile at the routine they’d fallen into. Still, he couldn’t help but think about how the world would have ended today if they’d been in the other timeline. They’d managed to stop Elias though, so they didn’t have to watch in horror as the world changed around them. Instead, they calmly discussed breakfast options while trying to avoid tripping on their cats. 

In the past year Jon had taken a job as a librarian, his background in academia coming in very useful. He had also discovered that he was a natural when it came to reading to children; apparently, all that time recording statements had been good practice. He was very popular at story time, and the kids loved him. 

Martin had started attending uni thanks to Peter Lukas. Jon couldn’t believe that Martin had been the one in charge of his own paychecks while he’d been Peter’s assistant, and while that had only lasted a couple of months, the man didn’t seem to have noticed just how much he’d paid said assistant. Still, Martin looked forward to getting his teaching degree and Jon couldn’t be happier for him. They liked to joke that they might end up working in the same place someday, Jon in the library and Martin teaching.

Tim had gone back to the publishing company and had managed to find a job for Sasha as well, a job that didn’t involve risking her life in order to earn a paycheck. They all still got drinks from time to time even though they no longer worked together. Georgie still insisted on doing trivia nights, although she had very little free time with how popular her podcast was becoming now that Melanie had joined her. Daisy had started to gain a reputation with her dog-finding skills and Basira had joined her.

Jon felt like he was dreaming some days. Like he would wake up in that ruined world by himself, no Martin, no cats, and no future apart from walking through fearscape after fearscape. If the past year was a dream though, then Jon never wanted to wake up 

“What’s on your mind?” Martin asked, drawing Jon from his thoughts. “You’ve got that look on your face again. You’re overthinking things again.”

“What? I do not have a look when I’m overthinking things.” Jon replied indignantly.

“Yes you do.” Martin laughed. “Your brow goes all furrowed and you bite your lip.”

Noticing that he was, in fact, biting his lip Jon sighed. “Fine. Maybe I do have a look.”

“So, what’s on your mind?”

 _Some days I feel like this is all too good to be true,_ Jon wanted to say. Wanted to just get the words off of his chest so he could move on. 

“Marry me,” was what ended up coming out instead.

Martin choked on his toast. “What?” 

Jon felt heat rise in his cheeks. “I-”

“I mean, the answer is yes, but seriously Jon?” Martin’s face was flushed as well. “That’s not what I was expecting you to say.”

“It- It just slipped out.” Jon practically fell out of his chair as he tried sinking onto one knee in front of Martin, fumbling to pull the box from his pocket and open it. “Let me try again-”

Martin’s eyes widened as he looked at the ring. It wasn’t anything fancy, a plain silver band, but Jon had gotten the inside engraved with the words “I see you.” Simple, but meaningful. Or so Jon hoped.

“Martin Blackwood.” Jon started, clearing his throat and trying to remember any of the lines he’d thought up when trying to plan his proposal. Sadly, none came to him. “My handsome, kind, brave, wonderful Martin. Will you marry me?”

“Yes.” Martin had started crying, tears streaming down his cheeks as he held out his hand so Jon could slide the ring on his finger. “A thousand times yes.” 

For the first time in years Jon had no idea what the future held for them, and yet? It didn’t seem to matter anymore. He had friends now, he had a job he actually enjoyed, and he had Martin. Martin, who was now his fiance. Whatever was waiting for him in the future, good or bad, Jon would accept it. He’d gotten his happy ending.

* * *

“Statement of Jonathan Sims-”

“-And Martin Blackwood!”

“Right. Statement of Jonathan Sims and Martin Blackwood on how they saved the world. Statement begins.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks! Well, that's it for the main story, I do have some side stories I can write if people want more of this fic. There were things that I wanted to write about but they didn't fit the pacing of this story. These include: the Archives gang getting drinks after chapter eight, a "we saved the world" celebration, how Jon found a way to feed the Eye after the destruction of the Archives, cats, and y'know, wedding. If people are interested in a spin-off with some behind-the-scenes stuff let me know! 
> 
> Anyway, thanks so much to everyone who's read this fic, given kudos, commented, bookmarked, etc. This is my first fic for this fandom and it means so much to me that people liked this. I am working on more fics but I'm trying not to post anything until they're completed.
> 
> Thanks so much to Ostentenacity for being an amazing beta for this whole thing, and thanks to the Magnus Writer's Discord for helping me work out some plot points. 
> 
> Thanks again, Elian


End file.
